Returning
by Willow Ann Rover
Summary: As Harry goes back to Hogwarts for his sixth year, can he, along with his new and very familiar Defense teachers, overcome his internal battles to help turn the tides of the real ones starting outside? eventual HG
1. Chapter One

A/N: Hello, welcome to _Returning_! The standard disclaimer applies: the only thing I own is the plot. All else is owned by the lovely JK Rowling. I hope you enjoy my story, please review!

xoxo,

Willow Ann

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Students were scampering happily all around the hall, trying to hurry to their seats before the start of term feast. Laughing and talking could be heard from everyone, all recalling different memories and adventures from over the summer. Everyone that is, except one boy. It was always this one particular boy that seemed to be unusual from everyone else, even in the already highly unusual wizarding world. He seemed to attract attention everywhere he went, no matter how hard he tried to be normal. Any other year, Harry Potter would have been overjoyed to be back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but this year, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. So he sat towards the top of the Gryffindor table with his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his head buried with his face hidden from view. After a completely one sided attempt at conversation, Ron and Hermione had given up trying to get Harry to talk to them less than half way through the train ride to school, opting to see if he would open up in the morning after a good nights rest. However, Hermione had concluded from the dark circles under Harry's eyes that he hardly ever slept anymore, but decided to keep that fact to herself, for Ron's sake. So other than the worried glances shared between the two friends, Ron and Hermione were unusually quiet as well, their morose moods picked up from their best friends depression. Other than that, in the excitement of everyone returning to Hogwarts, Harry thought that for once, he was being mercifully unnoticed.

However, Harry was not as unnoticed as he thought he was. Up at the staff table, the eyes of almost every professor were on him. They had all watched as Harry walked into the Great Hall, flanked on either side by Ron and Hermione. Normally, it was a grand sight, seeing the three of them marching proud and confident into the hall. They were usually laughing and smiling, the boys joking around with each other, trying, and succeeding, to make Hermione laugh, no matter how hard she tried to conceal it. So it was a common sight to see Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, broad grins on their handsome faces, with a smile tugging at Hermione's lips and her eyes sparkling with laughter from over the top of her ever present book. However, this year, there were no grins on the boys faces, and Hermione's eyes were sparkling from unshed tears instead of laughter. Ron looked pale, and kept shooting very unmanly but affectionate and endearing worried glances at Harry, and for a good reason, too.

The staff immediately noticed the changes in their young pupils. All three of the "Golden Trio", as the staff (minus Professor Snape, who called them the Trio from Hell) privately dubbed them, were now 16, and were no longer children. Hermione had grown into an exceptionally gorgeous young woman. Her hair was no longer bushy, but cascaded down to the middle of her back in little waves. Her eyes were kind and loving, and her face was pretty and unique, and would capture the heart of any boy when it wasn't hidden behind a rather large book, which it almost always was. Ron had always been tall and lanky. He still had his trademark Weasley hair, and freckles, but he was handsome and had an adoring look to him. Fred and George had passed down some of their traits to him, and he had a decidedly mischievous look about him that showed off his sense of humor. He was good natured and had an air around him that could only be described as pure fun and entirely loveable.

Harry, however, was the one that had changed the most. He had had a well overdue growth spurt over the summer and had gained several inches, and was now the same height as Ron. They were both tall for their age at a height of 6 feet, which was a surprise for Harry, because he had always been small for his age. He was no longer the frail boy he was at 11. His eyes were still the dazzling emerald green they had always been and his hair, if possible was even more unruly than ever, and stuck up in every direction, no matter how hard he tried to tame it. He had gained well toned muscles from years of Quidditch and extra training he had done over the summer when he couldn't sleep which was, coincidentally, every night. Harry had outgrown his angry phase over the summer, and it was replaced with confidence and forced calm. But Harry's most noticeable trait, was his love. Harry cared about everyone around him, no matter who they were or what they had done to him in the past. Somewhere deep in his heart, he even cared about Professor Snape. Harry's love was the best part about him, and it could be seen radiating off of him whenever he smiled. Harry's smile was the greatest smile in the world, and could easily put Lockhart's to shame. And to any of the older staff members, when Harry smiled, it was James Potter all over again, with Lily shining out through his eyes. Harry was made of love, was the very definition of love. Harry never thought about himself, and was always concerned about everyone around him.

It was this very fact, however, that had started to make Harry withdraw from people. Harry was suffering. Last June, Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, had been killed by Bellatrix Lestrange in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius was the only family that Harry had ever had. Granted, he loved Ron and Hermione like family, but Sirius was different. He had always been different. Sirius was his father, his brother, his best friend, all in one man. While Harry loved everyone around him, he had never uttered the words, "I love you" to anyone, and no one had said them to him. And Sirius Black was the only person that Harry had ever considered saying them too, and now he was gone. Harry blamed himself for his godfathers death. It had also brought back memories of Cedric Diggory, and Harry's guilt over that, which had been at bay, had come back full force. Harry had seen too much, lived too much, and if one looked closely enough into those gorgeous emerald eyes, one would see a haunted look that he was trying desperately to conceal. Dark circles that were the after effects of many terrorized and sleepless nights framed his eyes from merciless and gruesome nightmares. Harry was convinced that the people around him, the people he loved, always got hurt. So he had decided over the summer that no matter what it cost him, for the safety of the people around him, he wouldn't love anyone.

So here he was, at Hogwarts' traditional start of term feast, trying desperately to push Hermione and Ron away, and failing miserably. He loved them so much it hurt, and they loved him too. It was visible in their every action that Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley loved Harry Potter, their best friend, their third. They weren't complete without him, just like Harry wasn't complete without them. And so Harry's decision to push them away had been squashed into non existence within hours of being reunited with them. Harry was, however, still depressed. The trio sat down towards the front of the table, and Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of Sirius. A dog barking in the distance reminded him of Padfoot. Being in Hogwarts reminded him that Sirius had once roamed the halls with his father and Remus Lupin, Harry's former professor and now, close and beloved friend. Harry was no stranger to pain. He had been through every kind of pain there is, large and small, physical and emotional. But the pain that Harry was feeling now, that he had been feeling since the loss of his godfather, made everything else in the world seem childish and trivial. Between loosing Sirius and finding out about the prophecy, Harry's world that had been crumbling for so long, but that he had been trying so hard to keep standing, was finally coming crashing down around him. Harry had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Harry couldn't help but think how ironic that statement was, and remembered the first time the full force of the irony and what everything he had to do hit him. He had been lying on his bed in Privet Drive, staring blankly at the ceiling, and was thinking about the world at large. _Ya no, when people are stressed, they often say "I feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders." Hell, Uncle Vernon often says it about his job and Grunnings, and that's only in the drill business. But the difference between when everyone else says it, and me saying it, is that everyone else FEELS like they have the weight of the world on their shoulders, and I DO have it on my shoulders. The don't even think it really exists, that its just a phrase, but it does, and its lying on the shoulders of a 16 year old boy. My shoulders. If I don't kill Voldemort, I'll be dooming the wizarding and muggle worlds to darkness. _This realization changed him. Whatever was left of his rushed childhood had vanished and was replaced with a resigned acceptance and determination flashed in his eyes. Confidence supported every graceful move, and he seemed like he was carrying the burden of the world's future as well as anyone could.

But on the inside, Harry was screaming. He couldn't deal with it, with everything that had had been through, and everything he knew he would go through. He felt trapped, and panicked. But he also felt, and knew, that if Sirius were here, he could deal with everything. That if Sirius would still alive, the prophecy wouldn't be so bad, and defeating Voldemort wouldn't seem as impossible as it did now. Harry sighed. He was tired. No, beyond tired, he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He hardly slept anymore, not because of visions from Voldemort, because Harry had finally mastered Occlumency on his own in the privacy of his bedroom, without a greasy git of a professor hanging over him and yelling at him. He hardly slept because of gruesome and petrifying nightmares, right out of his own subconscious. Visions of the world burning, Voldemort wrecking havoc on Hogwarts, all his loved ones brutally murdered. These were only some of his nightmares.

His worst nightmare by far, however, was the one of the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. He would be in the cavernous room alone, looking into the Veil, when all of a sudden, his godfather would come out, and Harry would rush up to him, hug him, apologize, tell him he missed him and how much he meant to him, but he would stop talking when Sirius would shove Harry's arms away from him, and glare at him. Then Sirius would start talking to Harry, blaming him for his death. Telling him that he hated him and he never loved him, but that he only put up with him because he was James and Lily's son. Sirius would tell Harry that no one loved him, and no one ever would, because he was a murderer. Harry would always wake up from that dream, sweating, sometimes screaming, with the bedclothes twisted and stuck around him, with his godfathers sneering voice in his head, when he so longed for it to just tell him he loved him.

Through Harry's depressing thoughts, he had not looked up at the staff table once. If he had, he would have noticed the eyes of all the Order members that were professors looking at him, searching, hoping, for some sign that he was all right. None of them would get that sign. Professor Dumbledore was looking at him sadly and longingly. Not once had Albus Dumbledore looked as old as he did at this very moment, when looking at Harry. Albus loved Harry. True, Albus loved all of his students, but he loved Harry like family. Like his grandson. Or more accurately, his great grandson. But what was really hurting him, was to know that Harry no longer trusted him as much as he once had, if he trusted him at all. He had kept things from him for far too long, and as much as he hated it, he had one more thing he was keeping from him. He knew that when Harry found out, he would no longer trust him at all, and probably never would again. But Albus fully intended on telling Harry as soon as he possibly could, as soon as he was positive that Harry was a master at Occlumency. Albus had noticed immediately the haunted look in Harry's eyes as soon as he entered the Great Hall and sighed deeply. Harry was hurting more than anyone would ever know over the loss of Sirius Black, and he wondered, not for the first time, if he was doing the right thing.


	2. Chapter Two

Sitting beside him in her usual place at the staff table, Professor McGonagall heard Albus sigh deeply, and decided she had better interrupt his thoughts before he got too lost in them. "Albus, perhaps it would be best to start the feast?" 

Albus took a deep breath and replied, "Yes, of course, Minerva. I was just…thinking." Then, with a slight shake of his head, he put away his thoughts for later, and rose to his feet to begin the traditional announcements he made at the start of every new year. 

As Professor Dumbledore stood up, students all around the hall immediately quieted down. Harry sighed. He new this speech like the back of his hand, and all he wanted was for it to be over. However, he knew that he rarely got what he wanted, so he settled down to listen patiently to Dumbeldore's speech. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! I would like to remind you all to please check Mr. Filch's list of things NOT allowed in the corridors, as it has been enlarged from 657 items to 894 items." At this, Harry thought he heard someone at the staff table snort in amusement, but put it off, thinking he was imagining things. "I also know that many of you are nervous over the return of Voldemort." A collective shudder went around the hall at the mention of Voldemort's name. "I would like to ask you all to please, refer to him as Voldemort. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. I would also like to reassure you that you are all extremely well protected here at Hogwarts, and that we are doing everything possible to keep your families safe from harm." Harry sighed. That was a new addition to Dumbledore's annual speech, and he didn't like it at all. "Now, on a slightly happier note, I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers!" At this, Harry finally looked up at the staff table, and gave a small jump of surprise. Professor Lupin was sitting at the staff table! Harry felt his face break into a small smile. "I'm sure you all remember Professor Lupin--" Dumbledore was interrupted here by the torrent of cheers and whistles that came up from three of the house tables (the three better houses, in Harry's opinion). Professor Lupin blushed and waved slightly at them all, grinning broadly. "And his dear friend, Professor Brion! I'm sure you will help them both feel at home here at Hogwarts." Harry directed his attention to the man sitting on Professor Lupin's right. He had dark brown hair, playful blue eyes, and a charming grin that Harry thought looked eerily familiar. Harry cocked his head slightly to one side, studying the new professor. _Why does he look so familiar?_ He thought to himself. When Professor Brion caught his gaze, his grin faltered a bit, and Harry suddenly became very interested in his empty plate. "Thank you all for your patience" Professor Dumbledore concluded, "Tuck in!" and as usual, the tables filled themselves with varieties of delicious foods, and Harry busied himself with piling food onto his plate. Even though he knew he wasn't going to eat it, it gave him something to do to distract himself from Professor Brion's piercing gaze, which he could still feel on the side of his face. 

"Sirius!" Remus scolded. "Stop staring at him!"

"I can't help it, Remmie!" Sirius whined. "I miss him!"

Remus put down his fork and turned to look at Sirius. "I know you do, Padfoot." He murmured. "I know you do. But there's nothing you can do about it now, we have to wait until Dumbledore gives us permission to tell him."

"This isn't right." Sirius said vehemently, stabbing at his chicken violently with his fork. "I shouldn't be keeping this from him. Besides, I'm his godfather, shouldn't _I_ be the one to decide whether he knows I'm alive or not? Because personally, if it were up to me, he would have been the first person I saw when I came back out of the Veil."

"Sirius." Remus said pointedly, "you DID try to make him the first person you saw. You went to Privet Drive and were ready to blast down the door, but Moody stopped you and dragged you back to Headquarters, remember?"

Sirius grumbled. "Stupid Mad-eye Moody. Would've loved to play a good prank on Petunia, maybe turn her hair bright pink, or do something else equally… un-Dursley-ish. Teach them a lesson for treating Harry badly all these years."

Remus shook his head and sighed in an overly dramatic playful manner. "Your hopeless, Padfoot." He said wistfully, and went back to eating his dinner. 

"Shut up, Moony." Sirius said, and whacked him lightly up the backside of his head. 

"OW!" Remus yelped. Sirius grinned slightly and continued his grumblings over not being able to tell Harry who he really was. 

The two were silent for a moment, each deep in thought over all the changes that had happened so rapidly in their lives. Sirius refused to talk about how he escaped from the Veil. Whenever he was questioned about it, he merely replied that it wasn't important, because he was here now, and that was all that mattered. That always had been Sirius' view on life when he was a student at Hogwarts- live in the present and always make the most of it. Health wise, Sirius seemed perfectly fine after his encounter with the Veil. As a matter of fact, he seemed healthier now then before he went through it—the sunken and sickly looks that years of Azkaban and being on the run had given him had melted away, and the end result was the young and devilishly handsome Sirius Black that had graduated from Hogwarts himself not so long ago. Sirius was back and he was living life to its fullest as an under cover Hogwarts professor. Now he only wished he could live life with his godson.

Remus was marveling over the fact that after Sirius had fallen through the Veil, he had once again lost everything, but then his best friend had miraculously jumped back into his life for a second time. Sirius was not easy to get rid of, and Remus was thanking god for that fact every day. With Sirius' resurrection, Remus' depression that he had sunken into after his death disappeared, and Remus was now smiling all the time. He even found time to prank Sirius one morning by turning all the hairs on his head a vibrant green, which had been the start of a vicious prank war between the two mauraders. Remus also seemed to find a new love for life, and its result had him looking better than ever. People often thought he looked much older for his age, and at times he did, but that was only from stress. He now looked his true age and was as vibrant as ever, and was happily dating one Nymphadora Tonks. Like Sirius, however, the only topic that could put a damper on his mood was Harry.

Both Sirius and Remus had had many late night conversations concerning their young Prongslet, and their only conclusions had been that they both loved Harry more than life and wanted, more than anything, for him to be happy. And right now, the only way the could see to make him happy again was to tell him that Sirius was alive. Unfortunately, Dumbledore wouldn't let them, and both Sirius and Remus found an unwanted dislike forming in the pit of their stomachs towards the Hogwarts Headmaster. 

"Just look at him, Moony. He's miserable." Sirius said glumly. Remus looked down at Harry, and he did indeed look thoroughly miserable. He had tons of food on his plate, but he wasn't eating it- he was merely pushing it around on his plate with his fork. It looked to Remus like he was trying to see how many peas he could fit into his circle of mashed potatoes. Suddenly, Harry froze. His fork was midway between pea and potato, and it looked as if every muscle of his body had tensed up. 

"Sirius, look at Harry." Remus said urgently, his eyes never leaving the boy sitting rigid in his seat. 

"That's what I've just said, Rem." Sirius said, while pouring himself a cup of pumpkin juice. 

"No, Sirius, there's something wrong with him." At that Sirius' head snapped up to look at Harry, and when he did, he dropped the full pitcher of juice and it began to spill everywhere, seeping towards all the professors and down to the floor.

"Honestly, Professor!" Exclaimed Minerva as she said grabbed a napkin to keep the juice from spilling down onto her robes. "Couldn't you at least be a little more--" she stopped mid- sentence when she saw both Sirius and Remus staring horrified in the direction of the Gryffindor Table. She turned to see what they were staring at, and she immediately noticed Harry and forgot about the spilt pumpkin juice, which was now flowing freely down into her lap. "Albus…" she whispered. 

"I know, Minerva, I'm watching him." Albus was now extremely tense, and by this time all of the eyes of the professors were on Harry. Ron and Hermione were frantically trying to get his attention, shooting pleading glances up at the head table every now and then. It appeared as though Harry was…listening for something very, VERY intently. 

Suddenly his head snapped up and to the left, and within seconds he was on his feet, leaping up onto the Gryffindor Table and pointing his wand at something at the other end of the hall. "STUPEFY!" He shouted as he jumped off the other side of the table and began pelting down the hall, looking searchingly under the table the entire time. "God Damnit!" He shouted in frustration. All the professors were on their feet now, wands out, waiting, searching, for what Harry was so desperately trying to find. Then he yelled, "Everyone pick up your feet! Pick them up!" Surprisingly, no one questioned him, and everyone did as they were told as quickly as possible, some pulling up their feet and sitting on them, others standing up right on their chairs. And in the cleared space beneath the Gryffindor Table, Harry's target was plainly visible. A fat gray rat with one silver paw was scampering as fast as its little paws would take him towards the door to the Great Hall, frantically trying to get away from an enraged Harry. As it turned its head to look at it's attacker, it gave one terrified squeak before—

"STUPEFY!" Harry bellowed. 

The stunner hit the rat directly in its side, and it fell over, leaving the occupants of the Great Hall in shocked silence. Harry hurried over to the stunned rat, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get there, and picked up the rat and looked down at it with disgust and hissed out one, rage-filled word. 

"_Wormtail_."


	3. Chapter Three

The silence in the hall was deafening. No one dared to move. While most of the students had no idea what was going on, or why Harry had just bolted like a bat out of hell to capture the fat little rat at the end of the hall, they all understood that whatever it was, whatever Harry's reasons were, they were massive…life-altering…and most of all, dangerous. So everyone was frozen, watching, waiting, for someone to make a move. 

Harry was still standing exactly where he had been when he had captured Wormtail, his breathing deep, uneven, and ragged. He was gripping the rat so tightly that one would think he would die if he let go. And inside, that was exactly how Harry felt. His mind was reeling, spinning, turning. So many thoughts and facts were flying through his head that Harry felt dizzy, like he was tumbling through thin air into an unreal universe. And then all of a sudden, his haze cleared and he was left with one thought: _Sirius would be free. _

This realization immediately stimulated hatred and rage in Harry that he never knew he possessed. A rage at himself, at Wormtail, at fate. Ever since Harry met his godfather, all he had wanted was for Sirius to be free, and to go live with him. Sirius' pass to freedom, Harry's pass to happiness, was Wormtail. That pass was resting in Harry's hand. But there was no one to free. No one to go live with. No one to be Harry's family. Sirius had died. Harry had seen him fall, and furthermore, Harry had been the reason Sirius had fallen. Harry hated himself for being stupid enough to fall for Voldemort's trick. Harry hated Wormtail for being a murderous, deceitful little traitor. And Harry hated Sirius for leaving him all alone. Harry was instantly ashamed of himself the minute that thought crossed through his mind, and feeling the sudden need to do something to break this painful torrent of thoughts, he slowly raised his eyes to look up at the staff table. And when he did, the emotion visible in those emerald orbs was enough to knock anyone senseless. 

And for a moment, everyone was senseless. Albus and Harry locked eyes, and through the anger, the joy, the regret, and the unbelievable grief in those eyes, Albus understood what Harry wanted.

Albus broke their gaze and looked out to the sea of students. Their faces were painted with confusion, fear, and curiosity. Albus raised his voice, breaking the oppressive silence, and said, "Prefects, will you please lead your housemates back to the dormitories. We will inform you of any necessities in the morning. Thank you." 

As soon as Dumbledore finished speaking the hall erupted into hushed whispers and movement. People were hurrying out of the Great Hall, the first years following the prefects with wide eyes. Throughout the slight chaos that had sprung up, Harry was still standing rooted to the spot, having not moved an inch since his fingers closed around Wormtail. 

Sirius, exactly like Harry, was standing frozen in the same position he had been in when he first saw what Harry had captured. When Harry had leapt up, aiming his wand at an invisible target at the other end of the hall, Sirius' heart had climbed up into his throat in fear for his godsons safety. He knew that whatever it was that had put Harry into such a panic had to be big. He had just decided to jump over the staff table and rush to his godsons aid when Harry had yelled for everyone to pick up their feet, and as soon as he saw that lying, cheating, disgusting, miserable rat cowering under the Gryffindor table, he frozen in shock and rage. Now, he was stunned. He had the same reaction Harry did, so many thoughts were flying through his head he was unable to identify them all. He became vaguely aware of someone putting their hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly and calling his name. He ignored it, until the shaking grew more urgent and he heard someone beside him say quietly but fiercely, "SIRIUS! Snap out of it, mate!" 

Sirius jerked and looked around at Remus who was looking at him with concerned and excited eyes. He then looked around him and gave a small start of surprise when he realized that the Great Hall was now empty except for the professors, who were all still standing at the staff table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Ron and Hermione were standing together of to the side of the Great Hall up near the staff table- Sirius could see them out of the corner of his eye. "Remus…" he whispered. His gaze, however, was focused completely on Harry, who still hadn't moved. 

"Remus, why isn't he moving?" he murmured quietly, immediately thinking that Harry had possibly gotten hurt without him knowing it. "He's not hurt, is he? I'll kill him, Remus, I'll kill him…. Oh Harry… the stupid traitor… filthy rat…" Sirius had asked one coherent question about Harry's well-being before his thoughts were jumbled, and he was muttering under his breath with rage burning in his eyes. However, when Dumbledore spoke, his muttering stopped, and he paid complete attention to his surroundings, every muscle in his body tense with anticipation, worry, and anger. 

"Harry?" Albus asked quietly but firmly. He got no response. "Harry?" He asked a little louder this time. Still no response. Just as Albus was about to open his mouth to ask again, Snape beat him to it and said harshly, "POTTER! Has capturing Pettigrew somehow affected your hearing, or are you just too dimwitted to find a suitable answer for the Headmaster?" 

At this all eyes, including Harry's snapped over to look at Snape. Ron had taken a step forward and was being held back by Hermione, who was frantically whispering in his ear. Minerva, Sirius, and Remus all had looks of fury and disgust on their faces and Remus' hand had tightened on Sirius' shoulder as a silent warning not to do anything stupid. Harry, however, was looking at him calmly and as cool as a cucumber, which only proved to infuriate Snape, but not before Dumbledore noticed the small look of triumph and satisfaction in his eyes. 

Harry's level and controlled voice brought everyone's attention back to him. "As much as you like to entertain the concept of my… lack of intelligence, I can assure you that I am not dim-witted." Harry replied with confidence and mocking respect. He continued, "As much as I would love to continue this charming conversation with you, I have more pressing matters to attend to." 

With that he walked up to the head table and stood directly in front of Dumbledore. He looked into his eyes and then extended his hand, as if to drop the rat on the table, but stopped. His arm hovered in mid air, extended towards Dumbledore, tightly gripping Wormtail. Harry noticed that it was shaking, but when it had begun to shake, he had no idea. 

As soon as Harry hesitated Remus knew what was going through his head. The last time Harry had let Wormtail go, he had gotten away. The last time Harry had decided not to kill him, but to turn him in instead, he had slipped through their fingers and played a major role in bringing Voldemort back. Remus could see Harry's eyes darting back and forth as he played over the two sides in his head, debating with himself what his course of action should be. Remus, throwing back the rage that was threatening to overtake him, and forced thoughts of killing Wormtail himself out of his mind and thought logically; willing Harry to make the right decision. _Come on, Harry. We have him this time, we'll turn him in. He'll go on trial, and go to Azkaban. Sirius will be free. You can do it, Harry, come on…_

Harry's arm moved slightly back towards him, as if he were going to pull the rat away from Dumbledore and towards his wand. Remus heard Sirius suck in a breath beside him, and knew that Sirius was thinking the same thing he was. Harry would never be able to live with himself if he killed Wormtail. But then Harry shoved his arm out purposefully and although it was still shaking, he opened all his fingers in a swift movement and dropped the rat on the table. All the professors let out a collective sigh of relief, and Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath to regain control of his emotions. 

When he opened his eyes again, the uncontrollable shaking that had taken over his body had stopped, and his eyes were masked so that no emotion leaked through. He held his head high and spoke with a steady voice, "Professor Dumbledore, can you conjure a cage for him?" 

"Yes, Harry, I believe I can." Dumbledore responded with a noticeable hint of glee in his voice. He raised his wand and muttered a few words and a strong looking metal cage appeared in front of him. He opened it then picked up and proceeded to put several spells on him and the cage before finally placing the rat inside and locking the door. "I put some spells on the cage to make sure there is no possible way for Mr. Pettigrew to escape, and I also put a spell on Mr. Pettigrew himself to keep him from transforming until his trial." Here, Dumbledore paused and regarded him thoughtfully before asking, "You DO want him to have a trial, am I correct, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked at Wormtail with determination and said, "Yes." He raised his gaze and his eyes met Dumbledore's squarely and continued, "I want my godfather free by the end of the week."

And Sirius felt something explode inside him as he thought he would burst with joy, and two identical grins appeared on Sirius' and Remus' faces. 


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: I'm so sorry it took me forever to update! PLEASE keep reading, and hopefully reviewing! I'll be posting two chapters today to help make up for the wait. I hope you enjoy the next two chapters as much as you've enjoyed the past three. Enjoy! Xoxox

Willow Ann

            Albus smiled slightly and glanced sideways down the staff table at Sirius and Remus. Their faces looked like they would burst if they smiled any larger. _Finally, after all these years, Sirius can finally be free…be happy. _he thought with joy. He turned back to Harry, and realized that Harry had caught his line of sight and was regarding at him curiously and, Albus noticed with a sigh, slightly suspiciously. Harry was just about to look down the table as well to see what Albus had been glancing at, but before he could, Albus spoke quietly again, addressing Harry's former request. "I promise you, Harry, I'll make sure it's done. Sirius _will_ be free." He observed Harry searchingly for a moment as his face broke into a small smile, and then turned his attention to Ron and Hermione, who had been standing open mouthed and in shock towards the side of the hall the entire time. "Ron, Hermione, why don't you and Harry run off to bed."

            Ron and Hermione seemed to come out of their stupor with this, and walked over to Harry and took their places on either side of him. As they were walking out, Ron clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, and Hermione's arm snaked around his waist. Harry smiled slightly at them and walked on shaky legs out of the Hall.

            As Albus watched their retreating backs, he felt an uplifting sensation in his chest and felt extremely satisfied. He had finally made a promise to Harry that he could keep.

            Back in Gryffindor Tower, the trio was amazed to find the common room empty. "The other prefects must have told the others to go to bed." Hermione mused softly. She then turned to Harry before going up the staircase to the girls' dormitories and hugged him, whispering, "Congratulations Harry, Sirius would be so proud of you." Harry looked at the floor, then back up at her and replied genuinely and quietly, "Thanks, Hermione." She gave a small smile, kissed him on the cheek, and went up the stairs to bed.

            Harry looked quickly at Ron before turning and going up the boys' staircase. Right before they went inside, Ron stopped Harry by putting a hand on his arm. Harry sighed and said patiently, "What is it, Ron?"

            Ron looked hesitant, and responded, "Er-- Ya know how Hermione said that… that Sirius would be proud of you?" Harry nodded, eyes instantly filled with pain. Ron noticed and continued rapidly, "Well, I just wanted you to know… that… I--" he took a deep breath and said, "_I'm_ proud of you, mate."

            Harry looked at Ron and his expression softened, and the pain in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly. Harry's voice cracked faintly as he said, "Thanks, Ron. That means a lot." Harry spoke very few words, but the look on his face and in his eyes told Ron exactly how much he appreciated those words.

            Ron just smiled and nodded, opening the door to the dormitory. Inside, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were all looking at Harry expectantly. When they got no reaction from him, they turned to look at Ron, who just shook his head, indicating not to ask and to leave Harry alone. Dean and Seamus nodded and pulled their hangings closed, murmuring quiet "good-night's". Neville, however, had gotten considerably closer to Harry in their fifth year, especially after the Department of Mysteries, and was worried about him. He was looking at Harry with concern, asking Ron unsaid questions with his eyes. Harry was moving around his bed, getting ready to go to sleep, and Ron peeked at him out of the corner of his eye before mouthing to Neville, "Tell you later." Neville nodded, glanced once more at Harry, and pulled his hangings shut.

            Ron and Harry continued to undress and get ready for bed for a few more minutes, before a pajama-clad Harry turned to Ron and said softly, "'Night, mate…and thanks." Ron gave him a small smile and said, "Any time, Harry. Night."

            With that both boys climbed into bed, pulled their hangings closed and settled down to go to sleep. Within minutes, the steady rhythm of Ron's snores came up from Harry's left. When he was sure everyone else was asleep, Harry reached out to his bedside table for his wand and once he had it, muttered, "Silencio." Harry knew that the nightmares he had every night always left him tossing and turning, sometimes screaming, and the last thing he wanted was to wake up all of Gryffindor Tower on their first night back at Hogwarts. Instead of replacing his wand back on the nightstand, he put it under his pillow, and he distantly heard Mad-Eye Moody's gruff voice yelling "Constant Vigilance!" in his ear. He smiled grimly and closed his eyes, hoping for at least four hours of peaceful slumber. However, Harry must not have heard "Constant Vigilance!" loud enough in his ear, because what he failed to realize was that for the first time since learning Occlumency, with the excitement and distraction of capturing Wormtail, he had forgotten to clear his mind. Within minutes of falling asleep, Harry was in the depths of a grotesque and horrifying vision, and for the first time in his life, Harry wished that he was just having a nightmare.

            _Death Eaters were everywhere, raiding a small town, burning everything down to the ground. Two Death Eaters were chasing a small boy down the street, shooting the Cruciatus Curse at him simultaneously with one another once he was caught. Five more were standing outside a stout building, looking up into the windows where a family of six seemed to be trapped. One by one, they killed them, watching with glee as they tumbled out of the window, the fall breaking their already lifeless bodies. Three Death Eaters were talking in a huddle with one another, and Harry recognized their voices from other nightmares. Macnair, Nott, and Malfoy. They were laughing, and pointing to 3 girls who were trying to hide in an alley. The walked over and pinned the girls against the wall, and Malfoy hissed maliciously, "In the mood for a game, darlings?" _ By now Harry was sweating profusely, his nightclothes stuck to his body like a second layer of skin. If the silencing charm hadn't been cast, Harry's harsh breathing would have been heard throughout the silent dormitory. However, the vision was far from over, and the worst was yet to come. _Suddenly Harry was inside a room, and there was a young couple struggling against several Death Eaters. The man threw a hard punch at one Death Eater, and the woman kneed another in the groin. They proceeded to try and defend themselves and attack the Death Eaters to such an extent that it actually seemed like they might have a chance. Then, a high pitched female voice said from the corner of the room, "Oh, you useless pieces of filth, let me handle them!" She walked forward and pointed her wand at the young man and screeched, "CRUCIO!". As he fell to the floor, screaming and writhing in pain, she turned to the woman, who was watching her husband in horror, and did the same. Both the young man and the woman were on the floor convulsing and shrieking in pain. She kept the curse on them for minutes, until eventually even some of the Death Eaters thought that the mysterious woman had to let the couple up soon. But she didn't. She kept them both under the curse, laughing sadistically at them the whole time. _And Harry, in his subconscious state, knew immediately who it was. Bellatrix Lestrange. Anger filled every inch of his body towards Sirius' murderer and he watched as she finally took the curse off the couple and they lay completely limp, their eyes glazed over, their mouths slightly open- only shells of the people they used to be. Anger welled up in Harry, and he wanted nothing more in the world than to murder the woman who had tortured and killed so many people her in life. Harry wanted to kill her for the couple who was just robbed of their sanity, for Neville, for Sirius, and for himself. Because that …_thing_ had killed his godfather. 

            Unfortunately, in all of Harry's anger, he failed to notice one Death Eater in the very back corner of the room, shooting spells towards the group of innocent people. However, if inspected closely enough, one could tell the spells were a slightly different color then the rest, and although the Death Eater was doing a very good job of disguising it, he was almost…_trying_ to miss. But Harry was too angry with Bellatrix to notice this lone Death Eater. As a matter of fact, no one noticed him. Someone else _did_ notice Harry's anger though. Voldemort had suddenly become aware of Harry's presence in his mind and he cried out in cold  fury and rage, "_POTTER_!"

            As Voldemort's furious yell caused that lone Death Eater's head to snap up to attention, Harry woke up, screaming and gasping for breath as his scar exploded in sickening pain. 

            Harry couldn't breathe. He couldn't think, move, do anything. He didn't know anything but the pain he was feeling. It felt like someone was smashing his head with a sledgehammer over and over again. Harry's hands were glued over his scar, and his eyes were clamped shut. He was shaking, and he could still feel Voldemort's rage. The pain was so intense it was making him nauseous, and he threw himself out of bed and somehow made his way to the bathroom. Once there, he retched, and didn't stop for a good long while. Slowly, very slowly, the pain started to dim, until eventually he was left with just a dull throbbing in his scar. "I've really pissed him off this time." he muttered bitterly to himself. "So much for constant vigilance."

            Harry sighed and stood up, wincing as his scar gave an extra painful throb and the world swayed back and forth for a minute. As soon as the room stopped spinning, he rinsed his mouth out and stumbled back to his bed. He laid down, and put his arms over his eyes and took some deep breaths. He was exhausted, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep tonight. Every time he shut his eyes, he would see Bellatrix torturing that innocent couple and her masochistic laugh echoed in his ears. Harry knew that for as long as he lived, he would never forget her cruel laugh or mocking voice.

            Just thinking about it had Harry feeling slightly queasy again, so he gave his head a little shake to try and clear his thoughts. However, this movement sent waves of pain through his head and he made a mental note not to do that again any time soon. Harry sighed and sat up. He could never sleep after his nightmares, which had grown progressively worse since June, so over the summer at the Dursley's he had set up a system of things to do after he had one. He would get out of bed and do different exercises and training techniques that helped build up his muscles. Cliché, yes, but he had decided that he didn't have enough muscle, and that all the spells in the world wouldn't help him if he couldn't catch up with a running Death Eater to throw one at him. Spells also wouldn't help if he found himself stuck without a wand. So after a nightmare he would get out of bed and do crunches, full sit ups, pushups, squats- anything he could think of that would build his muscles. And sometime in late July, he had been pleased to note that his exercises had been working and he was considerably stronger than he was in June. However, his nightmares normally didn't come with pounding headaches that intensified by ten every time he moved his head. He couldn't even nod his head, he didn't want to think about what would happen if he did a sit up.

            Since Harry couldn't sleep and he couldn't do his exercises, he decided that he would go for a walk around the castle. He was starting to feel cramped in by the dormitory walls, and walking didn't involve too much head moving. He got out of bed and looked down at himself. He was still in his pajamas- an old gray tee shirt and baggy red pajama bottoms, but he didn't have the energy to change. Deciding that no one was going to see him anyway, he shuffled slowly down to the common room and out the portrait hole, sighing and thinking to himself, "First night at school and I already have multiple issues."


	5. Chapter Five

Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus were lounging in Dumbledore's office- Remus on a couch, and Sirius in a chair with his feet propped up on a small table. They had just returned from the Ministry of Magic, more specifically, Cornelius Fudge's chambers, and Sirius was now a free man. Sirius had been under Moody's invisibility cloak while Dumbledore and Remus had talked to Fudge. Sirius had watched with amusement as Fudge's emotions went from angry, at being woken up in the middle of the night, to scared out of his wits, over the fact the Sirius Black was lurking somewhere in the same room as him, to shocked and surprised, over the story that had been uncovered with the capture of Peter Pettigrew. Fudge may be a bumbling idiot, but after hearing Pettigrew's story under the influence of Veritaserum, and after that, Sirius' story, also under the influence of Veritaserum, even _he_ had to admit that Sirius was an innocent man. Fudge had Pettigrew locked up in Azkaban for being a follower of Voldemort, the betrayal of James and Lily Potter and Sirius Black, and the murder of twelve people. Pettigrew would remain in Azkaban until the Wizengamot announced his official punishment- either life imprisonment or the Dementor's Kiss. 

Fudge had then signed two papers- one, a pardon for Sirius Black, clearing him of all charges and announcing him a free man, and the other, an official apology from the Ministry of Magic, granting 140,000 galleons into Sirius' vault at Gringotts- 100,000 galleons for every year he spent in Azkaban, and 50,000 galleons for every year he spent on the run. Albus, Sirius, and Remus had then returned to Hogwarts, and were now sitting in Albus' office, talking about Sirius' newly acquired freedom.

            Sirius, who actually looked like Sirius and not Professor Brion, was talking wistfully and sentimentally. "Oh, Merlin, Moony. I'm free. After all these years…I'm free." Remus smiled softly at him, but watched with concern as Sirius' expression hardened. "Wormtail…" Sirius spat. "He's finally getting what he deserves. I hope they have him Kissed, Moony, I really do."

            Remus moved off the couch and into a chair beside Sirius. He put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Don't dwell on him, Sirius. He doesn't deserve to be in your mind. Think about being free. No more hiding, no more living in Headquarters… your a free man, Sirius. You'll be able to walk down Diagon Alley _without_ hundreds of Aurors and Dementors hunting you down." Remus paused here and snorted in amusement. "Not to mention, if you ever want to get into Gryffindor Tower again, your not going to have to rip up the portrait and scare the Fat Lady to death."

            Sirius looked up at Remus and his features softened into amusement. "You've got a point, Moony my friend. Actually, you've got several points. You always were the logical thinker." They both looked at each other and grinned, both the happiest they had been in sixteen years.

Suddenly Sirius' eyes lit up with excitement, and he said enthusiastically, "Do you know what this means, Remus? Me being free?" he asked, voice quivering with anticipation.

"This means several things, Padfoot, but tell me which particular thing you're thinking about." Remus replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. Sirius had taken his feet down from the little table and was literally bouncing in his seat like a 5 year old.

"HARRY!" Sirius yelled merrily. "I GET CUSTODY OF HARRY!"

            Remus' grin turned into full blown laughter, both from Sirius' antics and of pure happiness. "Yes, you do, Padfoot. He'll be--"

            But Remus was cut off, because Sirius had started prancing around the room, yelling in a sing song voice, "HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!"

            Remus stared at him for a moment with a blank expression on his face before falling off his chair and dissolving in a fit of laughter. Albus Dumbledore had been watching the whole scene from his chair behind his desk, and was now laughing at the humorous sight of Sirius, who was still dancing around the room yelling "HARRY!" at the top of his lungs, and Remus, who was rolling around on the floor laughing his head off, which was starting to look rather like a tomato.

            Once Sirius stopped bounding around the room and Remus had regained some of his composure, Sirius looked at Remus and said sincerely, "He's gonna live with me, Moony. That's all I've ever wanted since he was born, and it's finally going to happen."

            Remus cracked a grin and said, "Remember the time when Harry was about…. 10 months old, you tried to kidnap him by hiding him under your jacket because you wanted to take him to your flat for a "sleep over"?" Sirius started laughing as Remus continued, "But Lily caught you when your jacket started hiccup-ing? Oh, the look on your face was priceless! It was the picture of innocence, and I thought Lily was going to kill you! I swear, her face was as red as her hair." By this point, Sirius was laughing so hard he was crying, supporting himself on a nearby chair and Dumbledore was chuckling heartily.

            Sirius grinned and said, "You've got to admit, Moony, it would have been a hell of a lot of fun to have a sleep over with him, and those were the cutest hiccups in the world."

            "That they were, Padfoot, that they were." Remus agreed.

            Sirius' grin turned into a soft smile, his face acquired an adoring look to it, and his eyes glittered with happiness as he said, "I love him, Remus. More than anything else in the world."

            Remus smiled and put an arm around him and said, "I know you do, Sirius. We all love him."

            Sirius nodded serenely before turning to Dumbledore, and bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet, asked, "When can I tell him, Albus? Tomorrow? The day after? The day after that? Bloody hell, why wait till then? Let's go wake him up now…" and he turned around and started heading to the door when Albus said, "I'm afraid I can't let you tell him yet, Sirius."

            Sirius froze. He turned around, and all traces of humor and happiness were instantly gone and he strode angrily back to Dumbledore's desk.

            "What do you mean, 'you can't let me tell him yet'? I'm free, Albus, FREE, this is what we've both been waiting for since I met him!"

            Albus sighed and said, "I know, Sirius, believe me, I know, but--"

            Sirius cut him off, "NO! YOU OBVIOUSLY _DON'T_  KNOW, OTHERWISE YOU WOULDN'T EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS TO HIM!"

            Sirius was fuming and glared murderously at Dumbledore. Albus sensed that Sirius wasn't going to let this drop without a fight so he stood up and said firmly, "I'm sorry, Sirius, I hate to do this, but I have to take a stand on this. Harry cannot know that you are alive until he's mastered Occlumency. We cannot risk Voldemort obtaining that information--"

            Sirius interrupted him again. "OBTAINING _WHAT_ INFORMATION, ALBUS?! IM FREE, IT WILL BE ALL OVER THE NEWSPAPERS THAT THE MOST FAMOUS MURDERER ALIVE _ISN'T _A MURDERER! VOLDEMORT MAY BE EVIL BUT HE'S NOT STUPID, THAT WILL OBVIOUSLY TELL HIM THAT I'M ALIVE!"

            Albus' voice rose just a notch as he said, "Yes, he will know you are alive, but that will not tell him where you are or what you are doing! If we tell Harry and Voldemort can still pry into Harry's mind he will find memories of you in it, which will give away that you are near him! And since Harry is obviously at Hogwarts, to be near him you would have to be at Hogwarts too! You are right, Voldemort is not stupid, he would figure out where you are and that is vital information, both to the Order and to Harry! Tell me you see the logic in this, Sirius! I know you do!"

            Sirius was seething, and when he responded he spoke in a deadly quiet, cold voice that sent shivers running down Albus' and Remus' spines. "I see the logic, Albus, but that doesn't make it right. We are at war, there are going to be risks in everything. This is one I am willing to take."

            Albus and Sirius stood there, starring furiously at each other, both adamant in the belief that they were right. The tension was so think it could be sliced with a knife, but that was broken when a figure in black Death Eater robes came storming into the office. All three men whipped around and pulled out their wands, pointing them straight at the intruder.

            Severus Snape pulled his hood down and brushed past Sirius and Remus up to Albus' desk, panting hard. He looked exhausted, worried, and horrified. All three emotions were terribly un-Snape-ish, and as much as Sirius and Remus hated to admit it, they were soon concerned about him. Albus was obviously concerned also, and he came around his desk and placed a hand on Snape's shoulder. "What is it, Severus?" He asked softly, concern replacing the anger he had felt just moments ago.

Gasping for breath, Severus tried to speak, but couldn't manage to get complete thoughts or sentences out. "Voldemort…raided town… horrible… Lestrange… Longbottoms… yelled…  Potter… dreams…"

As soon as the word "Potter" came out of Snape's mouth, Sirius was pelting out of Dumbledore's office towards the Gryffindor Common Room, the only thought in his head centering around getting to Harry.

Remus, seeing Sirius running top speed out of Dumbledore's office, cursed quietly and rushed out after him. As the gargoyle lowered Remus to the hallway outside Dumbledore's office, he saw Sirius turning a corner at the other end of a hallway. Remus rushed after him, yelling, "PADFOOT, WAIT!"

Sirius ignored him and continued sprinting towards Gryffindor Tower. "Bloody hell!" Remus mumbled, exasperated. He picked up his speed, and finally caught up with him outside the Great Hall before Sirius could run up a flight of stairs. He grabbed him and said roughly, "Sirius, stop!"

Harry had been wandering aimlessly around the castle, trying to think of anything but his vision. However, whenever he tried to make his thoughts drift away from it, they would drift to Wormtail. Harry didn't want to think about that either, so his thoughts would drift again, and he would end up thinking about Sirius. He didn't want to think about that either, so he would force his thoughts somewhere else yet again, and he would end up right back where he started, thinking about his vision. Harry sighed- it was like the thinking circle of hell. He didn't want to think at all—he didn't want to feel, didn't want to exist.

Harry's anguished thoughts were interrupted by a pair of pounding footsteps. Harry whipped out his wand and pressed up against the wall and into the shadows. Faintly, he could hear another set of footsteps join the first ones. "Death Eater's can't be here, can they? They were just in that town…" Harry tried to reassure himself that there couldn't possibly be Death Eaters in Hogwarts, but he wasn't having too much success. He rounded a corner and ended up in front of the Great Hall, his wand held up in front of him, ready to curse anything if the need arose.

Harry could vaguely see two figures running towards a staircase, but they stopped at the bottom of them. Harry slinked up in the shadows to get a closer look at them, and as he got closer, he could see one of the figures grab the other one roughly and say something to him, but Harry couldn't quite make out what was said.

He got closer still, and recognized the two figures. The figure holding the other person was Remus, and he was holding Professor Brion! "What the hell…" Harry whispered to himself. Harry got closer still and hid behind a small statue and listened to what they were saying- they seemed to be fighting.

"You can't tell him yet! I know you're angry with Albus, but you can't tell Harry yet; Albus has a point!" Remus said gruffly.

"You heard Snivellus, Remus! He said something about Voldemort and Harry! He could be hurt! I _have_ to make sure he's allright, Remus!"

'Oh shit.' Harry thought. He had forgotten about Professor Snape. He would know that Harry saw tonight's attack, and he must've told Dumbledore…wait, Snivellus? But only his dad and Sirius called Snape that…and they were both dead. And why did Professor Brion care about him so much? 'Probably because I'm the bloody Boy-Who- Lived.' Harry thought bitterly. He squinted at the figures and noticed that Professor Brion didn't look quite right. Harry spotted another statue slightly closer to the pair, and moved stealthily up behind that one. He took a closer look and Professor Brion and noticed that he was right, it didn't look like him. It looked like… 'No, it can't be. He's dead. I just didn't get a proper look at him during the feast, is all.' Harry thought. 'He's dead.' He repeated to himself more firmly. But no matter how many times Harry told himself that, and no matter how many times he closed his eyes and opened them again, Professor Brion still looked like…

"SIRIUS! Get a hold of yourself! You'll see him tomorrow at breakfast- actually, you'll see him in a few hours at breakfast- I'm sure Harry is fine! If he wasn't he would tell someone--"

"NO HE WOULDN'T, REMUS, HE WOULDN'T! YOU KNOW HE WOULDN'T! The only person he ever told was me and he thinks that I'm DEAD!"

"Sirius, it's all right--"

"HOW IS THIS ALL RIGHT, REMUS?! HE DESERVES TO KNOW! I'M LYING TO HIM! I'VE NEVER LIED TO HIM BEFORE! ALL THIS TIME I'VE BEEN ALIVE AND HE'S BEEN HURTING! BECAUSE OF ME! I **_CANNOT_** HURT MY GODSON LIKE THIS!"

Remus didn't know what to do. Sirius was breaking, that much he knew. A persons emotions could only handle so much in one day and this was putting Sirius over the edge. Remus was about to say something, anything, to try and get Sirius to calm down, but as he looked at Sirius he noticed that his face had paled and his eyes had widened, and he was no longer struggling to get away from Remus to run to Harry. Remus' brow furrowed and just as he was about to ask Sirius what was wrong, a soft, hurt voice whispered from behind him.

"Sirius?"


	6. Chapter 6

Remus froze, feeling his blood run cold. Slowly, painfully slow, he released Sirius' arm and turned around, praying for all he was worth that the voice that had just spoken did not belong to the person Remus thought it belonged to. But he felt his stomach drop as he saw that it did. Remus felt the fear and panic rising up inside him as he turned fully around and faced the person who had spoken. Harry was standing in his pajamas near a statue of a very old witch, his face stark white, set like stone in an expression of disbelief and pain with his jaw hanging slightly open.

Harry moved his mouth slightly as if to say something, but he quickly stopped as he realized that he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to feel, either. Unlike before when he caught Wormtail, thousands of emotions were NOT running through Harry, like he had thought they would. Harry felt……._numb_. For several moments, Harry just stood there, feelings and emotions painfully starting to stir as the realization seeped slowly into his brain. Harry had become used to never getting anything he needed, also working with fate against him. But, for once, everything he had spent his summer dreadfully needing, wishing for with all his being, was actually happening. But not the way Harry had thought it would. And Harry did not feel how he thought he would. Sirius was alive. The soaring of Harry's stomach that accompanied that acknowledgement was quickly quelled as another truth came into his head. A much more painful truth. Sirius had lied to him. 

Part of Harry wanted to run up to Sirius and hug him, hold him as tightly as he could to make absolutely sure that he was real. Harry wanted to apologize, tell him he loved him, and just be with him, spend time with his godfather, who was _alive_. But just as Harry started forward slightly to do exactly that, something in his mind clicked and he remembered the nightmare that he had so often on Privet Drive. The one where Sirius told Harry he hated him, how he was useless and a murderer and that _no one_ would _ever_ love him. And then the possibility raised itself in Harry's mind that the reason Sirius had lied to him, betrayed him, was that he did indeed hate Harry. Harry's mind suddenly started reeling. Sirius hated him. He lied to him about his death because he wanted Harry to believe he was dead- that way Sirius could actually be alive without having to take care of a stupid, meddling, murdering godson.…. But, no…. Sirius couldn't possibly think that, could he? That was his nightmare Sirius. The real Sirius cared about him. The Sirius that Harry knew escaped from Azkaban for him, lived in a cave and ate rats for him,  and rushed into the Ministry of Magic for him….Harry was confused, he was drowning within his own head unable breathe, think, move. His mind was such a jumble of thoughts that it felt like his brain had turned to mush and was seeping out through his ears. The only thing Harry knew was that Sirius had lied to him. The one person in Harry's life that he trusted completely, loved completely, had betrayed him. He didn't know why, but he knew that he did. He slowly started to shake his head, and  took a step backwards, murmuring, "No... no, this isn't happening…"

Sirius and Remus had been staring horrorstruck at Harry, watching his face become steadily paler until he was nearly transparent, making the circles under his eyes look even more prominent. He was staring straight in front of him at where Sirius was standing, but both men knew that he wasn't really seeing Sirius anymore. He was staring past him, and the wheels in his head were turning so furiously that Sirius could almost hear them. He watched his godson with bated breath as Harry's face turned from disbelief, to momentary joy, and then finally settled on being totally horrified as realization dawned in his eyes. This last emotion filled Sirius with a mind consuming fear that he hadn't felt since Halloween 15 years ago. He couldn't stand the thought of a life without Harry, he had no idea how he would survive if his godson rejected him. Sirius couldn't stand it, he just wanted to rush up to his godson and hold him in his arms, telling him how much he loved him and that everything would be okay from now on, because he was back, and he would take care of him. Panic threatened to overtake Sirius' entire mind and body as he watched Harry take a step backwards, whispering to himself, the only word Sirius could make out of his murmurings was "No".

This word jolted Sirius back into reality, and he hesitantly took a step forward towards Harry, but before he could take another Harry whispered, "Stay away."

Sirius stopped as Harry made eye contact with him, his anguished, pain filled eyes boring into Sirius' own pleading ones. "Harry, please, I--"

"You lied to me." Harry said quietly. His tone was deadly soft, but filled with hurt and unbelievable pain.

"I didn't want to Harry, believe me, I went right to Privet Drive after I got back to tell you" Sirius was frantic now, and begging, something he had never done in his entire life. "Harry, please, I wanted to tell you, Albus wouldn't let me--"

"That's no excuse, Sirius!" Harry hissed viciously all of a sudden. "I'm YOUR godson, NOT Dumbledore's, which means that YOU have the right to decide what information I know, NOT Dumbledore." Harry was trembling now, in fact he was shaking violently all over, and he suddenly lost all his ability to think straight. "I—this isn't, no—you're not…" Harry was mumbling incoherently, shaking his head, eyes full of panic and confusion. He backed away even more and continued speaking in half sentences, Sirius and Remus both trying to interpret what he meant. "You, of all people, Sirius… trusted you, more than anyone else in the world…and Lupin too… funny…maybe it runs in the group…so stupid to actually think…someone could possibly…love…murderer…"

Remus had never felt so scared in his entire life, and he couldn't even imagine how Sirius was feeling. He looked over at his best friend, and his heart almost wrenched in two at the sight of him. Sirius was standing five feet from Harry, eyes filled with tears that he wasn't even trying to blink away. He suddenly looked very vulnerable and one look at Sirius' face clearly told him that he simply would not be able to go on without Harry. And it was this thought that forced Remus back into his position as the logical thinker, even though thinking logically was the last thing Remus thought himself capable of doing at the moment. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself but was unable to keep the pleading out note out of his voice as he said, "Harry, please, calm down, listen to us… we need to talk…"

Harry stared hopelessly at the ground and replied, "There's nothing to talk about, Professor."

Remus cringed at the cold formality in which Harry addressed him, clearly revealing that Harry was angry with him as well. 'And rightfully so…' Remus thought. But before he could speak again, Harry made a small noise of disbelief, lifted his head, and looked directly at Sirius.

"Funny" he said softly and airily, "Now you finally have something in common with Peter."

It was this sentence that made Remus hold his breath in suspense and terror, because he knew that whatever was coming was going to kill all three of them.

Sirius felt his blood boil at the mention of Pettigrew, but at the same time he felt it run cold at the thought of the person he loved the most comparing him to the person he hated the most.

Harry felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces as he locked eyes with Sirius and whispered mournfully, "You betrayed me, Sirius."

And one lone tear made its way down Harry's cheek as he turned and walked away.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey Everyone!! Sorry for the terrible delay in this chapter, I had a horrible ordeal trying to organize it with all the things that are coming up in the next chapters!! It's finally here, and I hope it's well worth the wait and that it lives up to your expectations!!! To my wonderful reviewers, I love you all so much—this chapter is dedicated to Tessbomb65- Thanks for being my best and most loyal reviewer! I hope you like this chapter!

Sirius slowly sank to the floor, silent tears trickling down his face in an endless stream of misery. He kept his eyes fixed on one point in front of him without really seeing it; his eyes were glazed over and glistening with tears. Remus felt like a deep, empty pit had just been wrenched open inside his heart, and he shivered; he couldn't even begin to imagine how Sirius was feeling. He opened and closed his mouth several times to say something, but found that, for once, he had no words. But that was solved for him as Sirius' dejected voice broke the silence.

"...That's it, Remus." He whispered.

Remus plunked down heavily next to Sirius, landing with a soft 'thump'. He turned his head and looked at Sirius, only to find him still staring at that invisible spot. "What's it, Siri?" Remus was surprised to hear his own voice wavering and unsteady.

"Harry. He's gone. After everything I went through...after I tried so hard, and got so close...I lost him." Sirius cut off with a choked sob. "I screwed up, and he's gone. That's IT. And it's my fault, Rem. It's my fault."

Sirius pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his head from view, his shoulders trembling with suppressed sobs. As Remus looked at him, the reality of what they had done hit him so hard that he couldn't even breathe. He couldn't help but think that Sirius was right. After all of the mistakes they had made with Harry, from the Dursley's, to the Order, everything... they had finally lost him.

"Oh God, Rem. What am I going to do? I—I can't live without him, Rem, I can't! I can't believe I was so stupid to actually lie to him—I just... this isn't... why did..." Sirius was slowly becoming hysterical and his breathing was coming in labored gasps.

Remus knew he had to do something, but he couldn't for the life of him fathom what he should do to help his friend when he himself wanted to sit there and cry as well. The first tears running down his face jolted him back into reality, and he hastily wiped his eyes and, sniffling slightly, stood and hauled Sirius to his feet.

His voice broke as he said, "C'mon, Siri, let's go."

Sirius yanked his arm out of Remus' grip. "Go where, Remus?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. "Back to our rooms? Get a good nights rest? It'll all be better in the morning, will it? Well there's no way in bloody hell that--"

Remus cut him off. "To see Dumbledore."

Harry stumbled aimlessly around the castle, not knowing where he was headed or what he was doing. He was just...going. All he knew was that it hurt. He felt like the broken pieces of his shattered heart were piercing him all over his body and he wanted nothing more than to make it all go away- to feel nothing. To be nothing.

Harry somehow found himself climbing up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. Once he got to the top he pushed the door open and walked out into the chill of the night air. The autumn wind was nipping fiercely at his skin, but this went by unnoticed. Harry walked to the very edge of the Tower and surveyed the grounds of Hogwarts. Everything was calm and still in the night, the very opposite of the turmoil Harry was feeling.

Harry found it ironic that out of all the people in the world who were bent on his destruction, including the most powerful dark wizard of all time, that the one person who actually managed to tear him apart, was his godfather. His godfather who was alive. And breathing. And breaking Harry's already tormented, tortured soul.

Harry slid down the wall of the Astronomy Tower and curled up into a ball in the far corner. Harry clamped his eyes tightly shut to try to keep back the tears that were so desperately trying to break free, but he couldn't. Harry stayed up in the Tower all night, curled up in a miserable ball, crying over his battered heart.

Sirius sat in Dumbledore's office at a long table in between Remus and Molly Weasley. As soon as Dumbledore heard what happened, he had called an emergency Order meeting to discuss the effects of Harry's vision and his discovery of Sirius.

Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, his eyes completely devoid of their usual twinkle and looking older than Merlin himself. He stapled his long fingers as he gazed seriously at Severus over his half-moon spectacles and asked, "Severus, what can you tell us of Voldemort's actions tonight? Do you know what Harry could have seen?"

Severus sighed and said, "The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters raided a small muggle town just outside of London. It was...the worst attack yet of the Second War." He swallowed tightly before continuing. "I don't know how much Potter saw...Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were...raping women and teenage girls. Others were torturing children, and Lestrange... she... it was just like with the Longbottoms." Severus' voice had remained steady, but his familiar sneer was not set upon his face, a sign that he was struggling to keep his composure. "...But Potter was deep enough in the Dark Lord's mind to make his presence noticed there. The Dark Lord's anger was...indescribable."

Albus sighed as he said, "Very well, Severus, thank you. Harry is probably in pain, could you please brew up a batch of very strong pain killing potion for him to take tomorrow morning?"

Severus nodded curtly and cast his eyes to the floor. Albus looked around and addressed the Order as a whole, "As you can see, Voldemort's attacks are becoming more frequent, and more vicious. We will have to work immediately to try and protect all those we can and try to prevent Voldemort from attacking again. But before we move to that, I believe that we should discuss matters concerning our young Mr. Potter." He paused and said quietly, almost to himself, "We have been keeping things from him for far too long."

At this Sirius' head snapped up and he hissed viciously, "No. The Order hasn't. You have." Almost all the other members had their eyes down, refusing to meet Dumbledore's eyes in silent agreement with Sirius' statement. Sirius, however, met his eyes squarely and stared coldly into them, his gaze menacing and unwavering.

Again Albus sighed and said, "You are right, Sirius. _I_ have been keeping things from him for far too long." He paused again as he looked sorrowfully at Sirius and took in just how much damage he had caused. Sirius looked awful. Pain and suffering were radiating off him in waves. His eyes were bloodshot and had hollowed to resemble what they had looked like when he had first escaped Azkaban. The look on his face was bone-chilling and the entire effect made him look the murderer he had been rumored to be for so long. Albus broke eye contact and continued. "I believe, that with Harry's discovery of Sirius'... health status, that it is time for us to start monitoring his behavior."

Several pairs of eyes looked up at him curiously. Albus went on, "Many people are under the impression that the opposite of love...is hatred. But that is not so. The opposite of love is apathy. Love is the strongest emotion there is. It can make our lives...or break them." At this Sirius' eyes flickered down to the table and remained there, unmoving. "Hatred, no matter how destructive, is still an emotion. People who feel hatred do exactly that- they feel. Harry has loved those around him even when they did not love him. He has experienced love, hatred, and all that lies between. Harry simply would not be Harry if he wasn't as dynamic as he is. Although he is sometimes rash," Dumbledore paused as Sirius sent him a warning glare. "Although he is sometimes rash, he always acts with his full heart. His ability to feel and love and hate with his whole heart and soul is what makes Harry who he is. "

Sirius began to fidget. This was all well and good, and entirely true—Albus was stating many of the reasons why Sirius loved Harry so much- but now was not the time for speeches. Now was the time to be begging Harry for forgiveness on his knees. Sirius looked up and growled, "Get to the point, _Dumbledore_."

Albus sighed again, and absently noted that he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He shook his head as he thought about how bad things got in about two hours. He took a deep breath and continued, "After your...fall, last June, Sirius, Harry and I had a...conversation... in which Harry said some very troubling things to me. And I admit, I have been worrying endlessly about them since he said them, and this situation only proves to worry me more."

Dumbledore was not aggravating only Sirius anymore. On either side of him, he could feel Remus and even Molly Weasley tensing with anger. Dumbledore was circling around the point- tap dancing around the stage without ever hitting the center, and Sirius felt like it was a cruel mockery of his pain and anguish. Just as he was about to lose his composure and scream at the man, Molly beat him to it.

"For goodness' sake, Albus, what happened? What did he say?" She said in an exasperated voice, and Sirius recognized it as the one she used on Fred and George, and even him on occasion right before she lost her famous Weasley temper. Albus must have noticed to, for he finally got straight to the point.

"He was angry, and in pain, after Sirius' death, and hurting beyond measure. He was yelling at me, telling me he didn't care, and I told him that he did care, and that suffering proved he was still a man. That pain was part of being human."

And Sirius suddenly didn't want to know what Harry said after that, because he knew that it would make his blood freeze to ice. Beside him, he could feel Remus shivering in either anticipation or fear. Sirius guessed it was some kind of sick, agonizing combination of the two, for he himself was feeling the exact same way.

"Harry told me that if being human meant he had to feel pain like that... then he didn't want to be human. That he didn't care, and he'd had had enough. He wanted out, and he wanted it to end."

There was silence in the room for a split second before Molly burst into loud sobs, burying her head in Arthur's chest, who also had silent tears running down his cheeks, as did several other Order members. Remus had his eyes shut and was shaking, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to remain in control.

But Sirius sat there quietly, not moving, not making a noise. He stood slowly and walked serenely to the door, placing his hand on the handle. But he didn't open it. He stood there, frozen in time. And then, all of a sudden, he placed both hands on the door and ripped it clean of its hinges, throwing it into the wall with a roar of rage. He watched as it splintered and broke with several satisfying 'CRACK's before turning into Padfoot and galloping away out of the office and down onto the grounds of Hogwarts.

The rest of the Order sat in shocked silence, only broken by the occasional sniffle. Remus stood and slowly made his way towards the doorframe, intending on attempting to find and hopefully pacify Sirius. Albus' voice stopped him when he was half way across the room. "Remus, please, I know this is a hard situation for all of us, but this meeting is not yet over. Your presence is still required."

Remus glared at him and reluctantly returned to sit next to Molly, who held onto his arm with an iron grip. He spoke in a forced calm voice, "So the point in telling us that was... that you're afraid that Harry will try to do that? Try to become emotionless?"

Albus' eyes twinkled slightly for only a second. "You always were the brightest wizard of your year, Remus, and for a good reason too. Yes, that is exactly what I am afraid of. That in all of Harry's pain, he will try to become numb. Try to do what he so desperately wants. I believe he will try to hide and suppress his pain, instead of release it and eventually deal with it. This has always been his instinct, and it could have several effects on him, all of them negative."

"What kind of effects?" Arthur asked quietly.

Albus sighed. "We all know how Harry reacted in August last year, after bottling up his emotions for part of the summer. His emotions now, however, are more painful and closer to home then they were after the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year. If these are suppressed, for a longer period of time, his breakdown once they are released will be much more severe then his previous outbursts of anger. He could also start taking unnecessary risks, purposely endangering his life, not out of the desire to kill himself, but because he doesn't care for his life anymore... none of us know how Harry will react to this. He is strong, but even the strong can only handle so much, and he is still only a sixteen year old boy. We will just have to watch Harry closely and observe his actions. Professors, monitor him in class, let me know his behavior, his marks, his actions... Remus, Molly, Arthur, if he or any of his friends write to you, please let me know of anything significant. Our top priority now is to help him."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hello, everyone! All I can say is that I'm so so so so so very sorry about the ridiculously long wait for this chapter! I won't make any excuses, I'll just say that now the chapter is finally here, I hope you all enjoy it!

The first thought that ran through Harry's weary mind was that he was cold. In fact, he was shivering all over, and he could hear his teeth chattering inside his head. He groggily opened his eyes, and realized that he was still sitting in a huddled ball in the far corner of the Astronomy Tower. He stood up slowly and winced as the world around him spun, and he grabbed onto the wall to keep himself from falling over. His scar was still throbbing from his vision the night before, and was making him dizzy with pain and exhaustion.

The sun was just beginning to come up, and the entire sky was painted with soft pinks and golds. Harry squinted at the pale light and turned his back to it, making his way back inside the castle. His feet felt like lead as he dragged himself back to Gryffindor Tower. Once in front of the Fat Lady, he ignored her indignant huff at being woken so early and mumbled the password, stumbling inside and up to his dormitory.

The other boys were still asleep, and Harry could hear Ron snoring softly from inside his curtains. He glanced at the clock on one of the bedside tables, which read, "To early to be awake. Go back to bed!" Harry knew that wasn't an option for him though, so he instead trudged over to his trunk and took out a fresh set of robes, leaving them on his bed.

He somehow made his way to the bathrooms, where he opened one of the showers and turned the water to an almost scalding temperature. He then discarded his robes and threw them on the counter, his shivering increasing as the cold air hit is bare skin. He climbed into the shower, and sighed in relief as the hot water worked its way over his aching body. He tilted his head back and let the water run over his face, hoping that the warmth would sooth the pain in his scar.

He tried not to think. Thinking would inevitably lead to thoughts about Sirius, and he was the one person Harry couldn't bear to think about. Harry sighed again, this time in exhaustion. The constricting pain was starting to enter his chest again, and he felt like icy threads were weaving their way through his heart, squeezing all life out of it with a frozen grip.

Harry sighed, and then turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, and then leaned his palms against the counter and let his head hang down. He closed his eyes, and immediately various memories of Sirius started playing on the backs of his eyelids. Sirius in the Shrieking Shack, trying to prove his innocence. Sirius living in a cave and eating rats, just to be closer to Harry. Sirius sitting next to him, gripping his shoulder in support as he told Dumbledore the events of the Third Task. Sirius dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange, getting hit directly in the chest with a beam of red light, and then falling… Harry shook his head to stop his train of thoughts. Harry had seen Sirius fall behind the veil in the Department of Mysteries in his nightmares almost every night since it happened. And every time, Harry would wake up drenched in sweat, completely terrified and feeling as though his heart were being shredded to pieces.

Harry glanced up at his reflection in the mirror, and noticed that his cheeks were slightly pink. He couldn't tell if they were flushed from the heat of his shower, or the cold that was dwelling inside of him. Harry stood up and left the bathroom, knowing that no amount of burning showers would make the cold go away.

When he walked back into the dormitory, Dean, Seamus, and Neville were all trudging around, getting ready for breakfast with their eyes half open. Ron, however, was still snoring loudly from behind his curtains. Harry felt the corner of his lips tug up slightly and he shook his head in amusement. He then grimaced, as the movement made his head spin.

He walked over to Ron's bed and pulled the curtains over, shaking his friend slightly. "Ron," he said. "Get up."

The only response he got was a loud, grunting snore. Harry sighed and shook Ron's shoulders more firmly, and said in a loud voice, "Ron, it's time to get up!"

…Still nothing.

"Merlin, if it wasn't for all the noise he's making, I'd think he was dead." Seamus muttered.

Harry let out a huff of exasperation, trying to come up with a way to get Ron out of bed. He paused, and then said loudly, "Ron, there's a giant spider on your pillow."

Ron bolted up into a sitting position and said in a high pitched squeal, "WHAT?! WHERE?! GET IT AWAY!" He frantically tried to scramble out of his bed, but his long legs got tangled all around the sheets and he ended up face down on the floor, a big heap of limbs and bed linen.

Dean, Seamus, and Neville were in hysterics, laughing and guffawing loudly at Ron's reaction. Ron, however, was grumbling on the floor. He looked up at Harry reproachfully and said grumpily, "That was mean, Harry."

Harry let out a small chuckle and said, "Had to get you out of bed someway, mate. I'll meet you down in the common room."

"Yeah, yeah…" Ron sighed as he hauled himself to his feet.

Harry walked down the stairs and spotted Hermione sitting on the couch, and he walked over and sat down next to her.

"Morning Harry!" she said brightly. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine." He answered. "You?"

"Very well, actually. It's good to be back, isn't it?" she said, giving him a calculating look.

"Yeah." He replied. He glanced up at her and noticed that she was looking at him doubtfully, but was relieved when she changed the subject.

"Where's Ron?" she asked.

Harry cracked a half-smile and said, "He'll be down in a minute."

Hermione sighed and said, "Oh no, what did you boys do?"

Harry looked at her and said, "Me? I didn't do anything."

Hermione nodded and smiled, saying, "Oh, of course you didn't. How silly of me."

Ron came down at that moment, still looking very cross and tense. He walked over and said, "Well, ready for food?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Yes, Ron, we're all ready for food."

"Good." He replied, and then turned and walked out of the portrait hole.

Harry was shaking his head fondly, amused that Ron was still embarrassed.

They hurried to catch up with him, and Hermione said, "Are you allright, Ron? What's the matter?"

They walked into the Great Hall and Harry looked at Ron and said, "Yeah, Ron, what's the matter?"

"Oh, bugger off, Harry." He said in a whiney voice and pushed him slightly.

"What's going on with you two? Harry, what did you do?" Hermione asked, sounding a bit like Mrs. Weasley.

"Ron wouldn't get up this morning, so I told him that there was a giant spider on his pillow."

"Oh, you didn't!" Hermione gasped.

"Yes, he bloody well did." Ron said vehemently. "I fell out of bed!"

"Well, it got you up didn't it?" Harry said triumphantly.

"Actually, it's more like it got him down… since he fell…" Hermione put in.

Ron looked at her incredulously. "Oh, no. Don't tell me you're taking his side!"

Hermione just looked at him and tried to stifle her laughter, but then she started giggling and said, "Did you really fall out of bed?"

Ron mumbled something indistinct and plopped himself down at the Gryffindor table, piling up his plate with food while Harry and Hermione sat down next to him.

"C'mon, mate, you know that if I fell out of my bed screaming about spiders you would laugh at me too."

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment and then grinned at him. "Yeah," he said, "that would be bloody hilarious."

Harry smiled at him and put some bacon on his plate, but immediately pushed it away again as the pungent smell made his head start to throb painfully again.

Harry put one hand over his scar and held his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and mumbled, "Why won't it go away?"

Hermione and Ron had stopped eating and were looking at him in concern. "Why won't what go away, Harry?" Hermione asked softly.

But at that moment, a loud '_pop'_ echoed right in front of them, making all three of them jump and Harry's hand plunged inside his robes for his wand as he quickly looked around for the source of the noise.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione breathed in relief as she pointed to the table in front of him. Harry looked and saw that a goblet of steaming liquid had appeared in front of him with a note propped up against it. He grabbed the note and opened it.

_For your head, Potter. _

_Professor Snape_

Harry put the note on the table, and Ron quickly snatched it up and then handed it to Hermione. Harry picked up the goblet and peaked suspiciously inside it, one eyebrow raised slightly higher then the other.

"Why would you need a potion for your head?" Ron asked in confusion. "What's wrong with it?"

"According to him, everything." Harry replied scathingly. He looked up at the staff table and saw Professor Snape staring disdainfully at him. Harry felt his defenses rise and he gave Snape a calculating look, which only cause Snape to sneer menacingly at him. Harry looked down into the goblet again, half to see if it would kill him, and half to keep his eyes from wandering further down the table where he knew he would see…

And he couldn't help it. He looked up towards the other end of the staff table and immediately locked eyes with Sirius. His features were slightly altered into those of Professor Brion's, but it was undeniably his godfather. Harry felt his heart ache and swell at the same time. Sirius' eyes were boring into his, pleading with him. At first, Harry thought they were pleading for forgiveness, but then Sirius nodded his head slightly, urging him on, and Harry realized that Sirius wanted him to drink the potion.

Harry looked down at the goblet in his hands, and then brought it to his mouth, downing the contents. Harry pulled a face at the taste, but felt the pain in his head lesson considerably. He sighed in relief and gave his head an experimental shake, happy when the movement brought no pain or dizziness with it.

Up at the staff table, Sirius was staring at Harry in shock. "He drank it, Remus." He said in disbelief. "I told him to drink it, and he did." Hope was edging its way into Sirius' voice and heart. "Did you see that, Moony?" He said excitedly. "He drank it!"

He then turned to Remus, his face anxious. "That's got to be a good sign, right?"

"I- I don't know, Sirius. Harry can be tricky…" Remus said thoughtfully, trailing off. At the exact moment Remus finished speaking, Harry got up and quickly left the Great Hall, not looking back at the staff table once.

Sirius' shoulders slumped and he looked down at the table, poking at his food with a finger.

Remus was looking blankly out into the sea of students. "I was afraid that might happen…" he said softly.

A/N: Well, there it was! I hope you all enjoyed it! But now, I need your advice. I have been making some major plot decisions, and I've figure them all out but one. This story will eventually have romance in it, and it's time for me to start incorporating some relationship foundations. I've narrowed it down to two girls for Harry, but I can't pick between the two. I won't tell you which two, because that would give the story away, but who do _you_ think Harry should be with? Let me know please! And, of course, please review! I love all reviews, even ones that nag me to write faster, because in all reality they actually do help. So please, drop me a note! I've also got a new story out called The Mask of Black. It's MWPP era, if you have time, please check it out! Thanks again everyone, I'm so sorry for the long wait. I'll try my best not to let it happen again. Hope you all enjoyed it!

Willow Ann


	9. Chapter Nine

Harry walked quickly out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall, seething with anger at Sirius and at himself. He stopped and tilted his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut tightly. There wasn't much time until his first class—Transfiguration, so he decided to make his way towards the classroom. He walked in an unseeing daze, his feet following the familiar path automatically.

He arrived in the classroom and made his way towards a table in the back, sitting down and putting his stuff on the floor. He then lay his head on the desk, picked it up, and let it fall back down again with a resounding _thump._

Suddenly there was a flurry of movement around him, and a flood of 6th year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws entered the room, Hermione and Ron sitting on either side of him.

"Hey, mate, what was that about?" Ron questioned as he settled himself down next to Harry.

But Professor McGonagall walked briskly into the classroom at that moment, something for which Harry was extremely grateful, so he just looked at Ron and shrugged, then turned to the front of the class as McGonagall started her lesson.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Harry, and soon it was his last class of the day—Defense Against the Dark Arts, with the Slytherins. Harry stood just outside the closed door, glaring at it as if it were the cause of all his problems.

"Harry, are you going to go in?" Hermione's voice said tentatively from behind him.

Harry was tempted to say "No" and run in the opposite direction, but instead he took a deep breath and said, "Yeah, of course. Sorry."

He then opened the door and walked into the classroom, the rest of the students filing in behind him.

Suddenly a spell was shot in their direction and Harry ducked to get out of the way, and another one was shot quickly from behind them, and Malfoy fell to the floor, stunned. A slight snicker was heard and their two defense teachers suddenly appeared out of no where from opposite sides of the classroom.

Professor Lupin walked over to them and quietly woke up Malfoy, who then stood up with a glare. The professor ignored it completely and said, "That was a common dueling tactic that you will hopefully be quite familiar with by the end of the year. It is a diversionary strategy that focuses your attention in one specific place while attacking from another, the result being that you are completely unprepared for it. If you could all take your seats please, we'll begin the lesson. And ten points to Gryffindor, for excellent reflexes on Mr. Potter's part."

Harry looked down and quietly made his way to a seat in the middle of the classroom, Ron clapping him on the back in silent congratulations. Hermione and Neville also sat at their table, and they looked to the front of the classroom at their Professors.

Professor Lupin was standing to one side smiling gently, and Professor Brion was sitting cross legged on top of the teachers' desk, grinning mischievously. He suddenly stood up and said, "Hello, everyone! Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts! Be prepared for that to happen everyday- anywhere anytime. Although your pitiful excuse of a professor last year refused to admit it, Voldemort is back, and it is our job to prepare you for that. Constant Vigilance, as Moody would say." Several people flinched at the mention of Voldemort, and Malfoy paled considerably, although Harry couldn't tell if it was because of Voldemort or Moody. _Probably both_, he thought grimly.

Professor Lupin took over the talking and said, "We will most certainly do our best to prepare you for the upcoming… circumstances, but it will require a great deal of effort from you as well. Anyways, you all probably remember me—"

"Unfortunately." Malfoy added smugly.

The Gryffindors turned and glared at him, but Professor Lupin merely glanced at him and continued on saying, "You all probably remember me, as I taught you in your third year, but just in case, I'm Professor Lupin."

"And I'm Professor Brion." Harry's cheeks pinked slightly at this statement and he glared down at his desk, knowing that it was really 'Professor Black.'

Sirius walked around perkily to the other side of the desk and reached under it, dragging a trunk out from beneath it and heaving it up onto the desk with the help of Professor Lupin. Hermione jumped slightly as it began to shake violently, something rattling around loudly inside of it. Sirius then brushed off his hands and planted them on his hips, shaking his head in mock defeat as he said, "Well, Professor Lupin, I do say that I'm having a bit of trouble with this boggart. It's been living in my trunk and I just can't seem to get rid of it." Here, he heaved a huge, dramatic sigh and said, "Woe is me."

The Gryffindors all chuckled at this, and Sirius grinned at them, but then put on a fake pout and said, "What do you say, Professor, can you help me?"

Professor Lupin sighed and said, "You know, I'd love too, but in my terribly old age I just don't recall how." He then whirled on the class and said loudly, "But you're all sixth years! I'm sure you could help him with this!"

When no one moved, Sirius took over and said in an equally loud tone, "Come on, up you get! Just like third year."

And all at once, people were standing up and pushing the desks up against the walls, the classroom full of noise. Sirius took the time to rush up to Remus and whisper quietly, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"They've got to face their fears sometime, Padfoot. Better sooner then later."

Sirius looked hesitant for a moment, then set his face in grim determination and said, "Right. Of course. Okay. Let's do it."

Remus nodded and briefly squeezed Sirius' shoulder before turning to the class and saying, "Allright, everyone. As you all know, the incantation is _Riddikulus_." He then walked over to the trunk and said, "Ms. Patil, you first, please."

Parvati gulped nervously and stepped forward, raising her wand in front of her. Professor Lupin then opened the trunk, and a huge snake came surfacing out of it and onto the floor, slithering over to her and hissing ominously at her. But she then raised her wand and said, "_Riddikulus!_" and instead of a large boa constrictor in front of her, there was a large, pink, feathery boa in front of her.

The class laughed heartily and Parvati came back to the rest of the students, smiling happily. The next student went, but Harry took no notice. He was more worried about what was going to happen when a dementor came out of that trunk.

Sirius was watching Harry intensely, an anxious look plastered onto his face. Harry wasn't gasping with his classmates as they saw each other's fears, not laughing as they were turned into idiotic things. He was staring at the trunk, getting paler by the second. Sirius fidgeted nervously. They had been lucky so far, the fears being un-Voldemort related, but sooner or later that would change. They hadn't gotten to Harry, Ron, Hermione, or Neville yet. Those four would have different fears, if only for the fact that they had been at the Department of Mysteries last year.

And sure enough, as Neville walked to the center of the classroom, it wasn't Professor Snape who emerged from the trunk, but a figure clothed in black wearing a white porcelain mask. Neville's eyes widened as the Death Eater came stalking towards him.

The entire class waited with baited breath as the Death Eater came closer and closer to Neville, and he didn't move an inch, standing in front of him completely petrified.

_Come on, Neville,_ Harry though desperately. _Do something!_

Harry heard a snigger behind him and he looked to his right to see Malfoy staring at Neville, a triumphant smirk on his face. Harry seethed and looked back at Neville, who was starting to tremble as the Death Eater reached slowly inside his robes for his wand. The seconds ticked slowly by and Neville still hadn't moved, just watching as the Death Eater continued to advance on him.

Harry's eyes flicked between Neville, the Death Eater, and Malfoy, and he finally tilted his head up and walked quickly out to Neville, whispering quietly in his ear.

"Neville," he said quickly, "you can do this. I know you can, I saw you fight real ones with me last June. We went over this in the DA, and I saw you in action, and _I_ know you can handle this. Now show everyone else that you can too."

He then turned and walked quickly back to the line, standing anxiously between Ron and Hermione. The Death Eater now had his wand fully pointed at Neville, and he had just started to move it to curse him when Neville shouted, "_STUPEFY!"_

The jet of red light hit the Death Eater directly in the chest, and he stumbled backwards and faded slightly and Neville said, "Oh! I—I mean, _Riddikulus!"_

And with a _pop!_ there was a porcelain doll in place of the Death Eater, slightly resembling what used to be its mask. Cheers erupted from the Gryffindors, and Neville came back to the line of students, beaming as he was clapped on the back by his fellow housemates. He stopped as he came up to Harry and opened his mouth to say something, but Harry just leaned in slightly and said in a low voice, "Had he been real, you'd have blown him off his feet."

Neville grinned brightly in response and said, "Thanks, Harry."

Harry just nodded and Neville went to the end of the line, leaving Harry smiling at the floor, his chest filling with pride at the thought of how much progress his friend had made since the beginning of the DA last year.

That feeling was soon replaced one with one of dread as he realized that it was his turn to go against the boggart. He took a deep breath and walked forward, raising his wand in front of him.

Sirius' face was drawn tight in worry, and he could feel his chest start to constrict as Remus opened the trunk and a huge, menacing dementor emerged out of it. As it slowly glided across the room, he saw a shudder rip through his godson's body, and he wanted nothing more at that moment then to run to Harry and protect him. Sirius reached out a hand and gripped the chair nearest to him, watching with anxiety painted across every feature.

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he heard the dementor suck in a rattling breath, and he clamped his eyes shut against the onslaught of memories. This, however, only made them clearer as he saw them replayed against the backs of his eyelids.

_Only one couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: He was laughing at her. "Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. _

_The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. _

_The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. _

_Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore turned to the dais too. _

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. . . . _

_And Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he feel through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place. _

Harry had started to shake violently as he heard Bellatrix's triumphant scream, and he snapped open his eyes, half seeing the boggart-dementor in front of him and half still hearing him desperately yelling Sirius' name, struggling against Lupin, who wouldn't let him go… But he had to! He needed to get to Sirius before he fell, he had only just gone through… _Let me go! _Harry thought in panic.

Harry's breathing became ragged and right as he thought he was going to lose it, that he wasn't going to be able to do it, to get rid of the boggart, he raised his wand and bellowed, "_RIDDIKULUS_!"

…And with a loud _POP!_ the dementor was gone, leaving Harry standing alone in the middle of the classroom, shaking violently all over. The students around him were dead silent, and his labored breathing was easily audible. He was facing his two professors, with his back to the students, so he therefore didn't see Malfoy take two silent steps forward. Sirius had his eyes fixed on Harry, although he tensed in anger and anticipation as he saw Malfoy saunter closer to Harry.

"What's the matter, Potter?" he said in a deadly whisper. "Do you miss your precious godfather?"

A/N: There's chapter nine! I hope you all enjoyed it, please review!


	10. Chapter Ten

A/N: Hello everyone! Chapter 10 is finally here! I hope you all enjoy it!

"20 points from Slytherin!" Both professors barked simultaneously.

Professor Brion glared hatefully at the blonde as Professor Lupin continued, "Mr. Malfoy, you will take your seat now, and report here tonight at 8 o'clock for detention."

Malfoy turned his heated gaze to the professor for a just moment before returning it to the back of Harry's head. Harry was still standing in the front of the classroom after his encounter with his dementor, and he had his back to everyone but the two professors, who were standing in front of him. Malfoy raised his chin and smirked as he said, "Typical, Potter. Letting others do your fighting for you. What's the matter, are you too afraid to turn around and face me?"

Harry stood up straight and turned around slowly, looking Malfoy directly in the eyes as he said, "There are some things I'm afraid of, Malfoy, but _you_ most definitely are not one of them."

Malfoy's glinted with a revengeful gleam as he said in a savage whisper, "Just wait, Potter. The Dark Lord will get you, eventually, and then he'll make you wish you were never born." Malfoy paused slightly and then his look turned smug as he said, "…Or maybe he's too late for that. I know you're depressed, Potter, because that filthy, good for nothing godfather of yours—"

Harry cut him off as he said in a low voice, "Save your energy, Malfoy. You'll need it before this war is over."

The two professors shared an anxious glance, and several gasps were heard around the classroom. They all knew war was coming, but this was the first time it had been openly acknowledged, especially within the walls of Hogwarts.

Malfoy stiffened slightly and Sirius smiled evilly as he saw a panicked look enter the Slytherin's eyes. Malfoy tried to hide it and he raised his chin defiantly, saying, "Are you threatening me, Potter?"

Harry walked towards him slowly until they were standing only a step apart, and they glared into each others eyes, Harry's burning with fierce determination and Malfoy's widening in fear as he watched Harry advance on him. Harry took the remaining step forward and leaned his face in close as he said in a snarling voice, "Say one more word about my godfather, and it won't be a threat. It will be a promise."

A deadly silence hung in the air between the two boys until eventually Malfoy sneered at Harry and took a step backwards before pushing past him and storming angrily out of the classroom, Crabbe and Goyle in his wake.

Harry seemed to visibly deflate and his shoulders slumped again as his closed off, exhausted manner came back to him. He sighed and closed his eyes, sneaking his fingers past his glasses to rub them tiredly. He then stopped and stiffened slightly as he felt the eyes of the entire class on him, and he opened his eyes and looked around self consciously before moving back to stand in between Ron and Hermione. But even his movement hadn't broken the oppressive silence, so he cleared his throat and mumbled, "Er… are we dismissed, Professors?"

His quiet question jolted everyone back into reality and they all turned as Professor Lupin said quietly, "Yes, class is over. Please write a short summary of what you learned about boggarts today and have it ready to hand in next class. You all may go."

There was a slight shuffling sound as students moved around to gather their things and the noise level rose as they slowly started talking to one another again and left the classroom to go down to the Great Hall for dinner. Inside the empty classroom, Sirius shared a pained look with Remus before sinking down to the floor against the wall and putting has face in his hands.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry were walking down to the Great Hall in silence— they had gone back to the Gryffindor common room to drop off their bags and Harry still hadn't said a word since they left the classroom. Just before they entered the Great Hall, Hermione sighed and pulled them over to a secluded area behind a statue.

"Harry, are you allright?" She asked quietly.

He nodded and said, "Yes, I'm fine. Malfoy is just being a git, as usual--"

Hermione cut him off by shaking her head and said, "That's not what I meant, Harry." She glanced at Ron before saying hesitantly, "We know you have a bad reaction to dementors… you haven't said a word since class ended and you're still white as a sheet… what did you see?"

Harry looked down uncomfortably and shuffled a bit, trying to find away around the question, until Hermione put her hand on his shoulder and looked him expectantly.

He sighed and looked away at an invisible spot near the statue's toe as he said, "I… I saw Sirius…falling through the Veil…disappearing." He made a small, disbelieving noise and he shook his head slightly as he said in a pained voice, "Just like that. He was gone. I don't even know if he died, there was no body, no nothing. He was just… _gone_."

He heard Hermione suck in a breath and he looked up her, and was surprised to see tears welling up in her eyes. "Please, Hermione, don't cry." He said softly, pleadingly.

"Why not?" she whispered, "Because then you'll cry too?"

Harry looked away, not wanting to admit that to her that she was right. If Hermione started to cry, Harry wasn't sure if he would be able to keep his own tears at bay, and he hated himself for that.

"It's allright, Harry. It's okay to cry--" Hermione said, her voice sounding watery.

Harry shook his head and backed away from her, saying, "I—I'm not hungry. I think I'll just…go for a walk, or something… I'll see you later in the common room, yeah?" he asked, still walking backwards.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Ron laid a hand on her back to stop her and said, "Yeah, mate, we'll see you later."

Harry gave Ron a thankful look and a small, forced smile before turning around and walking swiftly in the opposite direction.

Ron sighed and said, "Come on, Hermione." He led her into the Great Hall, keeping his hand on her back until they were both sitting at the Gryffindor table. Slowly and mechanically they both put food on their plates, but neither of them ate. Hermione suddenly stopped playing with her food and her shoulders started to shake, and she dropped her head down into her hands as she finally gave in to her tears. Ron turned to her and without hesitating pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, resting his head on top of hers as she cried into his chest.

"Oh, Ron…" she sniffled softly, "we're losing him."

"No, no we're not, Hermione." Ron replied quietly, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice. "We won't lose him, he'll come back. He always does. He…he has to."

Unknown to Ron and Hermione, two other people were having the same conversation.

"NO!" Sirius bellowed, "THAT'S NOT ENOUGH, WE'RE NOT DOING ENOUGH! I WILL NOT LOSE HM, DUMBLEDORE!"

"Sirius, please, calm down--" Dumbledore said, rising to his feet to match Sirius, who was in a towering rage on the other side of the desk.

Sirius slammed his fist down on his desk with a thundering _bang!_ that sent papers flying as he continued to yell. "**_NO!_** I'M THROUGH BEING CALM! I'M THROUGH WAITING! I WAITED THIRTEEN YEARS TO GET HIM AND NOW THAT I FINALLY HAVE HIM THERE IS NO WAY IN BLOODY HELL THAT I'M JUST GOING TO LET HIM GO!"

"Sirius, I am not asking you to let him go. Believe me, that is the last thing I want. You need each other."

Sirius' manner instantly changed and his face took on a pleading expression as he said in a strangled voice, "Then why? Why are you doing this?"

Dumbledore sounded weary as he said, "It was my intention to keep your identity and whereabouts a secret, but that was before Wormtail was caught. As of right now, Voldemort believes you to be dead, and that would have been a valuable asset to the Order. But your article gets printed in the Prophet tomorrow, announcing to the world not only your innocence, but your…living status as well."

Sirius shook his head sat down, saying, "I don't understand. Voldemort is going to know I'm alive anyway…What does that have to do with keeping me from Harry?"

"Everything, I'm afraid," Dumbledore continued, lowering himself down into his chair as well. "Your death was a victory for Voldemort. You were the person Harry cared the most for, you were the most important person in his life, and you were dead. Since Voldemort has not yet been successful in his attempts to kill Harry, he is going to go to every possible length to hurt him emotionally until a time comes when he can hurt him physically. And the best way to hurt Harry is to hurt the people he loves. When he finds out that you are alive, his anger will be…unimaginable. He will try and kill you again, which means we have to be more cautious then ever with your whereabouts. If Harry has not yet mastered Occlumency, then there is a chance, no matter how small, that Voldemort could obtain information through him. That would endanger not only you but Harry and the entire Order as well." Dumbledore stopped and regarded Sirius thoughtfully over his steepled fingers. "Do you understand?"

Sirius was sitting dejectedly draped over his chair with a bitter, mournful look on his face. "Yes, but that doesn't make it right." He turned his head to gaze out through the window at the darkened sky. "It's not fair." He said quietly.

Dumbledore's eyes stopped twinkling all together as they did far too often these days, and he felt his heart break just a little bit more at the site of his former student. "No, no it's not. But this is war, Sirius. It has never been fair, and it never will be."

Sirius then turned to meet Dumbledore's gaze and he ran a hand over his face and said tiredly, "Well we can't just do nothing. We need to find out if Harry can do Occlumency. How do we do that?"

Dumbledore looked at Sirius knowingly over his half-moon spectacles and Sirius, quickly cottoning on, sat up straight and said, "No, no way, Albus. I will NOT allow Snape to snoop around in Harry's mind."

"Hopefully he won't be able to." Dumbledore replied in an infuriatingly mild voice.

"Oh, of course, don't listen to me at all. I mean, I have no say in his life whatsoever, I'm only his GODFATHER, for Merlin's sake--" Sirius said sarcastically.

Dumbledore gave him a warning glance and Sirius sighed and leaned forward, pleading. "Please, Albus, let me protect him in _some_ way. Anyone but Snape."

"Who, then, would you suggest? There is no one here other than myself as proficient at Occlumency and Legilimency as Severus." Dumbledore replied.

Sirius paused thoughtfully before sitting forward and saying eagerly, "Me, Albus! Me! I can do it! Maybe I can't do it as well as I could have 15 years ago, but I can still do it! If you trained me up a bit I would be just as good as Snape, if not better!"

Dumbledore looked hesitant, but Sirius could see that this was one battle he could win. "You know I was good, Albus, you told me so yourself. When I first mastered it at 16 you told me that not even someone who had been practicing for hundreds of years could break me. I may be slightly out of practice, but a few lessons with you and I would be that good again! And it would be good for Harry! I'm his godfather, and I learned it at the same age…" Sirius faltered slightly before adding, "…almost under the same circumstances."

Albus' look turned regretful at Sirius' last remark, and he opened his mouth to reply but Sirius beat him to it. "Please, Albus, let me do this." He then grinned slightly as he said, "After all, I learned from the best."

Albus chuckled slightly as he said, "You learned from me, my dear boy."

Sirius nodded and said, "Exactly. I learned from the best."

Albus looked at Sirius and nodded, relenting as he said, "Allright, Sirius. Our first lesson starts now."

Sirius grinned widely and stood up, pulling out his wand as he moved to stand opposite of Albus. Inside, Sirius sighed in slight relief. This was step one of getting his godson back.

Harry had been wandering aimlessly around the castle for hours, staring unblinkingly in front of him with his hands in his pockets as his feet moved mechanically one after the other. Left…right…left…right…left…right… that's what his life had become. Waking up after three hours of sleep and surviving the day one step at a time, trying to make it through alive and sane only to wake up the next day and go through the whole melancholy process all over again.

He knew that he should probably be back in the dormitory, getting ready for bed, but he didn't see the point as he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. Harry then stopped walking to think about where he was, before turning around and heading up to the seventh floor corridor. Once he reached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, he turned and looked at the blank space of wall before pacing in front of it three times.

When the door appeared to the Room of Requirement, he pulled it open and walked inside to see that the room had arranged itself into an open space much smaller then when he had used it for the D.A. last year, and that the floor was slightly cushioned. Harry sighed and pulled off his shirt, throwing it in a corner as he assumed the push up position and fell into the routine that had become so familiar to him over the summer.

_One…Two…Three…Four…_

A/N: Well, there it is! I hope you all liked it, please review!

Willow Ann


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning found Harry trudging down the stairs with Ron in his wake, who was grumbling and shuffling along half asleep while trying to pull his jumper over his head. Once down in the common room, they spotted Hermione sitting on one of the couches with Ginny, and the two boys walked slowly over to join them.

"Morning" Harry mumbled groggily. As usual for him lately, he'd gotten only four and a half hours of sleep, and it was starting to take a toll on his body.

"Good morning, Harry, Ron" Hermione answered cheerfully.

Ron acknowledged her with an unidentifiable grunt, a jerk of his head, and a very vague hand motion.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she said, "Your communication skills never cease to amaze me, brother dearest, but yes, we can go to breakfast now."

Harry found himself smiling slightly as the four made their way out of the common room and through portrait hole. His smile faded quickly, however, and his face settled back into the same distant, closed expression it seemed to wear all the time now. Harry sighed and shook his head. He didn't understand. He had spent his entire summer wishing for Sirius to come back…to be alive… and now he was. So why wasn't he happy? '_Because he lied to me' _a small voice answered in his head. _'He left me.'_

Harry glared at the ground, watching as his feet moved along slowly. His legs felt like lead, and he was surprised that he was able to move at all. He could hear the others talking, but he blocked them out easily. He needed to think. There was too much going on inside of his head, and he couldn't think clearly because his many thoughts were jumbled together, forming an inescapable maze of pain.

Sirius was…_is_ his family, his _only_ family, why would he do something like that to him? Why would he _lie_? Harry couldn't understand. No matter how much he thought about it, agonized over it, he always came back to the same inevitable conclusion that he just _didn't know_. He had no idea what would possess his godfather to do something that would hurt him so much. Harry paused. _'Maybe that's why it's so painful' _he thought. '_Because Sirius was the last person I expected to hurt me.'_

Harry suddenly felt closed in and trapped. His eyes wandered over to the side where he looked out through the windows he was passing and out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. The sky was gray and cloudy; it looked like it might rain later in the day, but for now a gentle wind was rustling the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Not a soul was outside, and to Harry it looked quiet and peaceful. What he wouldn't give to go for a fly right now…'_Wait.' _Harry thought. '_Go for a fly?' _The thought hit him so suddenly that he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as reality seemed to slam into him like a bludger.

"Ron!" he said loudly, and people all around him jumped at his sudden exclamation.

Ron winced and stopped walking, turning to face Harry. "Bloody hell, Harry, not so loud. What?"

"Ron!" Harry said again. "Umbridge is gone!" The fact washed all other thoughts out of his head and his stomach did a sudden swoop upwards as he realized what that could possibly mean.

Ron, however, merely blinked at him and said, "Er… Harry, mate, are you feeling allright?"

"Oh, Merlin, Ron, I can't believe we forgot!" Harry said as he slapped a hand to his forehead in remembrance. All three of his friends, however, misread this action and simultaneously burst out into noise.

"Harry! Your scar!"

"We should go see Dumbledore—"

"If you're in pain, we can go see Pomfrey, she'll help—"

Harry looked bewildered for a second before shaking his head rapidly, "No, no, it's not my scar, it's just that Umbridge is gone! Ron! If she's gone, I wonder if…I wonder if her bans are gone too!" he said excitedly.

Ron's eyebrows scrunched together in thought and Ginny had her head tilted slightly to one side in confusion, but a look of dawning realization was slowly entering Hermione's eyes.

"Oh, _Harry_, please tell me you didn't just scare the life out of us just because of--"

"QUIDDITCH!" Ron suddenly shouted, looking like Christmas had come early.

"YES!" yelled Harry. "Quidditch! Now that Umbridge is gone, do you reckon I can play again? Where's my broomstick? I haven't seen it in ages, let alone ridden it!" Harry continued to ramble rapidly as Ginny started to laugh.

"Harry, why don't you go ask McGonagall? She _is_ head of our house…"

Harry and Ron suddenly froze, looked at each other, and then took off in a mad dash for the Great Hall, grinning wildly. Ginny and Hermione stood for a moment, slightly stunned, before taking off after them, listening to their gibber the entire way.

Sirius and Remus were sitting up at the staff table finishing their breakfasts, and Remus was looking with raised eyebrows at his friend, who was battling to keep his eyes open.

"Tired, Padfoot?" Remus inquired innocently.

Sirius glared at him and said, "Yes, I am. It's too bloody early to be awake."

Remus chuckled and said, "I swear, Siri, you sleep heavier than a rock."

Sirius grinned slightly as he opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by a loud commotion coming from outside the Great Hall. Feet could be heard pounding loudly on the floor, interrupting panting voices.

"With you back on the team, we'll win for sure—"

"I wonder where my broomstick _is_—"

"Fred and George's were chained down, remember?

"I reckon mine is as well—"

"That's…that's broomstick abuse! I'm telling you!"

"Should be against the law, that should—"

_CRASH!_

"Bloody Hell, where did that armor come from?"

"Ouch, it's got my arm—hey! Let go!"

"Woah, mate, it's attacking you! Since when do the armor attack students?"

Here, a female voice cut in shrilly, "Since students started running into it! Honestly!"

Sirius turned and raised a bewildered eyebrow at Remus who was looking highly perturbed and amused at the same time. Then with a sudden _THUD! _Sirius watched in astonishment as his godson came bursting into the Great Hall with Ron, his robes askew and his glasses crooked on his nose, but with huge grin on his face nonetheless.

It took Sirius a moment to realize that not only was Harry smiling, but he was sprinting up the Hall to the staff table with Ron right next to him, Hermione and Ginny behind them. Various scenes involving him and Harry hugging desperately and reuniting flashed through Sirius' mind in spitfire succession, and he felt hope start to rise up in him. He felt his stomach drop below his feet, however, when instead of running up to him, Harry ran up to McGonagall. Sirius glared at her as she sat patiently in front of her two students, looking up at them expectantly with a knowing look on her face.

"Professor!" Harry blurted out, panting heavily.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" she asked, a small smile on her lips. "May I help you with something?"

"Professor!" Ron exclaimed. "Quidditch!"

"Broomsticks!" Harry added.

"Look!" Ron said, pointing a finger at Sirius and Remus, who jumped slightly at the sudden attention. They exchanged glances before discreetly looking down and checking to make sure there was nothing hideous or discolored about them. Finding nothing, they looked up at the two boys again, totally confused. "What?" they questioned at the same time.

"Umbridge is gone!" Harry said quickly. "Her bans! Are they gone? Can I play? Where's my broomstick?"

Surprisingly, McGonagall let out a small chuckle as she said, "I was wondering when the two of you would remember." She then stood and said, "Follow me."

Harry and Ron grinned ridiculously at each other before turning and following their professor out of the Hall.

A shocked silence was left in their wake, before Hermione muttered, "Boys," And sat down at the Gryffindor table to eat her breakfast.

Harry and Ron followed McGonagall into her office, where she went to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a small object wrapped in cloth. Harry exchanged a curious glance with Ron before refocusing his attention on his teacher. His eyes suddenly widened as McGonagall muttered a few choice words and the object in her hand grew to be his Firebolt.

"Here you are, Mr. Potter, good as new" she said with a small smile. Harry slowly reached out and took his broomstick carefully, looking at it in awe.

"Thanks, Professor!" he said in a breathy, excited voice. He then proceeded to turn it every which way, inspecting it from all sides to make sure there was no damage. Once satisfied, he looked up at her and shot her a dazzling smile. "Thank you so much!" He said again. Here, Ron interrupted.

"Professor! Can he play? Is he back on the team?" He asked hurriedly.

"Oh, he's much more than just 'on the team', Mr. Weasley" she informed them.

She looked at Harry and smiled slightly as she continued quietly, "He's Captain, if he wants to be."

Harry's jaw went totally slack, and Ron leaped into the air and shouted "YES! I KNEW IT!"

Harry reached out with trembling fingers and accepted the badge that McGonagall was handing him, looking at it reverently.

"I trust you accept, Mr. Potter?" she questioned.

Harry just looked up at her and nodded vigorously, his mouth still open slightly.

"In that case, you should start thinking about trials for the open positions. They should take place sometime within the next two weeks."

Harry nodded again, and upon seeing his dazed look, she added, "And Mr. Potter, if you don't close your mouth soon, you'll catch flies."

Harry quickly snapped his jaw shut before opening it again and beginning to verbalize his gratitude, but she interrupted him and said, "You've nothing to thank me for, Potter, you deserve this honor. And I fully expect the Quidditch Cup to stay in my office."

Harry grinned and said, "Oh, it will, Professor." He then backed slowly out of the office, still watching her in astonishment. Ron hurried out after him and clapped him on the shoulder, turning him around and leading him out of the room. However, once in the hallway, both boys paused and simultaneously shouted back, "Thanks, Professor!"

McGonagall chuckled as she heard their statement and listened as they made their way, cheering and shouting, back to the Great Hall.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm sorry this took literally forever to get out. As an apology, Chapter 12 will be posted within the next few days, full of plenty of angst since this one was so lacking in it. I figured after 10 chapters of solid heartbreak, I needed one chapter of normalcy to let poor Harry catch his breath. Next chapter we'll dive right back in though. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, stick around for the next one in the very near future.

Xoxo,

Willow Ann


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Hello everyone! Finally, an update! This chapter is dedicated to kitkat74123, whose nagging really did speed up my writing. Thanks so much kitkat, I hope you like the new chapter! Please continue reviewing!

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Harry sat perched on the edge of his seat in Charms, legs bouncing up and down as he waited impatiently for class to be over. Beside him, Ron was in a similar state of excitement, and he was muttering under his breath at their tiny professor.

"Come on…" Ron was muttering. "You know you want to let class out, you tiny, gnome-like little man…"

Harry snorted softly in amusement, thinking that Professor Flitwick looked nothing like the gnomes he'd seen running around the garden hedge at the Burrow.

Since Harry had gotten his broomstick back that morning, he and Ron had immediately decided they had to go flying as soon as they had the chance, which just so happened to be at lunchtime. They both had their broomsticks shrunken and carefully stowed in their bags and were waiting anxiously for the end of class…which should be any second…

"Allright, sixth years, that's the end of our lesson for today--"

The two boys were out of their seats and through the door before their professor could finish his sentence, speaking brokenly to each other as they raced through the corridors.

"Allright, so, we'll go to the Great Hall—"Harry started.

"--grab some food—"Ron continued.

"--grab Hermione—"

"--and then go." Ron finished.

Harry nodded and they rounded a corner and burst into the Great Hall. They quickly found Hermione sitting next to Ginny at the other end of the Gryffindor table and they skidded to a halt in front of them, crashing into one another as they stopped.

The girls were looking up at them, slightly astonished. Hermione opened her mouth, but Ron cut her off and said, "Hermione! Let's go!" He then started grabbing food and throwing it on a napkin. Hermione looked at it dubiously as it started to strain with the weight of the food before muttering a spell at it that made it larger and stronger. Ron looked at her, stunned, before saying, "Thanks! Now come on!"

"Where are we going?" she asked as she got up.

"Flying!" He replied gleefully.

Hermione sighed in exasperation and turned to look at Harry, ready to tell them to save it for after classes at least, but her eyes softened as she looked at her best friend. He had picked up an apple and was tossing it from hand to hand as he waited for them impatiently, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

"Oh, allright," she said resignedly, smiling at him. Her heart lifted as she saw his own smile light up his face. If flying was the only thing that made him happy nowadays, who was she to take it away?

"Cheers, Hermione!" Ron said jubilantly. "Let's go!"

Hermione laughed softly and started walking out of the Great Hall with Ron. Harry turned to follow them, but he hesitated as he saw Ginny's face. Her head was tilted down, but he could still make out the slightly pink color that tinged her cheeks as she poked at her food, looking disappointed and lonely. He quickly made up his mind and said, "Hey, Ginny!"

She looked up at him, startled. "What?" she replied.

Harry grinned devilishly at her and threw his apple up in the air, catching it lazily as it came back down. "Let the best seeker win?" he challenged.

She smiled brilliantly at him and jumped up from her seat. "You're on!" she said.

She then sprinted past him, leaving Harry watching her as she dashed towards the Entrance Hall, summoning her broom on the way. As she caught up with Ron and Hermione, she turned and exclaimed, "Come on, Potter! If you move that slow in the air, I'll have you for sure!"

Harry shook his head slightly before saying, "Oh, you wish, Weasley!" as he ran to catch up with his friends.

Up at the head table, Sirius was watching intently as the four friends walked out of the Great Hall, still laughing and joking.

"Oooh! Boys against girls!" Ron exclaimed.

"Yeah!" Harry agreed.

"Oh, no." Hermione said sternly. "There's no way you're getting me on a broomstick!"

"Not even if it's on the back of Ron's?" Ginny asked slyly.

Harry laughed as both Ron and Hermione turned bright red.

"Absolutely not," Hermione continued, trying to regain her dignity. "That makes no difference whatsoever."

As the group finally left the castle and walked onto the grounds, Sirius listened as their laughter slowly quieted as they got farther away, and a fierce, determined look swept across his face.

"Remus," he said. "I need to talk to you. Now."

Remus had started slightly at the use of his full name, and he nodded to his friend and they both got up and left the Great Hall. They walked in brisk silence until they reached a portrait of a woman in a lilac colored dress who was grinning flirtatiously at them from her frame.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." Sirius stated.

The woman giggled and replied, "Oh, I'd get up to no good with you…" before opening and letting the two men walk into the common room they shared. It was small and cozy, with a fireplace, several couches, and two desks that sat opposite each other. Book cases lined the walls, and gold draperies lined the enchanted window to match the scarlet, plush rug that was keeping the cold chill of the stone floor out of the room.

Once inside, Remus settled himself on an armchair near the fire and sat patiently, waiting for Sirius to tell him what was on his mind. His friend was pacing restlessly around the room, a look of deep concentration on his face. After several long moments, Sirius finally turned to look at Remus, a look of resolve etched deeply into his features, but his eyes held a faint hint of the mischievousness that used to reside there so often in his youth. Remus saw this and groaned, plopping his face down into his hands.

"What are you scheming, Padfoot?" he asked wearily, his voice slightly muffled by his hands.

"Your obvious lack of faith in me wounds me, Moony," Sirius said cheekily. "But hear me out."

Remus picked his head up and looked at his friend. "Allright, I'm listening."

Sirius sat down on a couch and leaned forward, looking intently into Remus' eyes.

"I need him, Remmie" he said softly. "I need Harry. He's my life."

Remus stopped him here. "I know that, Sirius. Really, I do. Harry is important to me as well, but Dumbledore—"

"Stop it, Remus!" Sirius interrupted harshly. "Do you hear yourself? Do you realize what we've been doing? We lied to him and left him all alone! That's just not acceptable, Remus, it's not! Out of all the people in the world we should know how awful it feels to lose the people you love, and we let him think I was dead for months! We hurt him!" Sirius' loud rant stopped here abruptly and he finished quietly. "_I_ hurt him."

Remus looked at his friend, pain shining clearly in his eyes. "I realize this, but… but it's for the best, isn't it?"

"How is it for the best? How?" Sirius questioned. "The Death Eaters think I'm dead… and I can understand how it would be a valuable asset to the Order if they continued to think that, but not at the price we've paid. Not when Harry pays for it."

There was silence in the room as Sirius rested his head in his hands, deep in thought as his eyes gazed unblinkingly into the fire.

"Dumbledore specifically told us not to tell Harry I was back because of the chance that Voldemort could find out I was alive through Legilimency. But now, Harry already knows I'm back. And it will be in the papers within the next week that not only am I alive, but I'm free as well." A small smile appeared on Sirius' face when he said the last bit, but it disappeared as he continued. "So really, the only thing left Voldemort could possibly find out through Harry is my whereabouts."

"But if you teach Harry Occlumency, that won't be a problem anymore," Remus said.

"I know, but Dumbledore says I need at least another 2 weeks of lessons myself before I can start teaching him, and I just can't wait that long. It's not fair to him, and it's not fair to me," Sirius replied.

"Or me." Remus added quietly.

Sirius nodded his head in agreement. "Or you."

"So…" Remus started slowly. "Even though Harry knows you're alive, Dumbledore doesn't want you to see him as because…he's afraid that Voldemort will see memories of you here at Hogwarts through Harry's head. Have I got that right?" Remus asked, trying to understand what was going through Albus' head when he forbade Sirius from seeing the most important person in his life.

"That's exactly it, Rem" Sirius replied grimly.

"Well that's…that's absolutely bullocks!" Remus exclaimed suddenly.

Sirius looked startled at Remus' sudden profanity before a large grin split across his face, "My thoughts exactly, my dear Mr. Moony!"

Remus smiled at him conspiratorially and said, "Well, since we're of the same frame of mind, Mr. Moony wonders what Mr. Padfoot thinks we should do about this completely shit idea of our dear headmaster's."

This time Sirius was not surprised at all by Remus' language selection, and he leaned forward eagerly, his eyes glinting. "Well, Mr. Moony, I do believe I have a plan."

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After dinner, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all sitting in tired heaps around the fire, each working their way through the mounds of homework they had already accumulated.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses. His first time flying again this afternoon had been…amazing. Flying never ceased to make him happy, even in his darkest times. However, the worries he had left behind on the ground while he was in the air had settled heavily upon his shoulders again, and the exhausted, worn feeling he had briefly escaped from was back in its full, agonizing force. The fact that the broom offering him so much comfort had been bought for him by his godfather hadn't registered fully when he was actually flying, but now that he was back on the ground it was ramming into his head, sending pins and needles through his heart.

_'Don't think about that' _Harry mentally told himself.

The large clock on the wall chimed eleven o'clock, and Ron pushed his work away from himself and grumbled, "I can't work anymore."

Hermione glanced over at the now silent clock and said, "Oh, yes, it is getting rather late. Have you all finished your homework?"

After getting three exhausted nods she packed up her things, looking pleased. "Well, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked at her in disbelief.

"Mione, we've been working solid since dinner! How is that 'not bad'?" Ron asked. "Seriously! I want to know!"

Hermione huffed. "Well, at least it's all done now and you won't be scrambling to finish it tomorrow. I'm going to bed. You coming, Ginny?"

"Yeah," the other girl said with a slight yawn. "Night guys."

"Night," they chorused back.

"I'll see you in the morning, Harry, Ron." Hermione said before turning and walking towards the girls' staircase.

"Night, Mione," they said together again. She smiled briefly before walking up the stairs to bed.

Ron got up and stretched, yawning widely.

"I'm knackered," he said. "You coming up, Harry?"

Harry was still seated on the couch, not looking like he planned on moving any time soon.

"No," he replied. "I'll be up later."

Ron frowned. "You allright, mate?"

Harry looked up at him and gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just don't feel much like sleeping."

Ron nodded. "Allright. See you in the morning."

"Night," Harry said softly.

Ron trudged away up the stairs, leaving Harry alone in the common room. He stared blankly into the fire for a moment before getting up abruptly and making his way through portrait hole. He crept stealthily through the shadows, making sure he wouldn't be seen if he happened to come across a teacher wandering the halls. When he finally reached the blank space of wall that concealed the Room of Requirement, he paced back and forth and then entered the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. If he couldn't stop thinking about Sirius, then he would work himself until he was too exhausted to think.

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"You're sure he's coming?" Sirius asked anxiously. He and Remus were currently sitting at a small table towards the back of The Hog's Head.

"_Yes_, Sirius, I'm sure." Remus responded. "You've only asked about a hundred times."

"Sorry," Sirius muttered. "I just want to get this over with."

"I know, Siri," Remus said. "He'll be here soon."  
After plotting all through the afternoon, the two men had finally come up with a plan that was, in their minds, brilliant. Dumbledore had said not to tell _Harry_ anything, but he never specifically mentioned anything about anyone else. Granted, it was a loophole, but they were Marauders, so it was good enough for them.

Through the use of many owls, they had finally tracked down the man who was supposedly writing the article about Sirius' freedom for the Daily Prophet. They had politely requested that he meet them for a drink in order to discuss the disclosure of the document before it hit the press sometime in the near future; in translation, this meant that they were luring him here under false pretenses and were going to bribe him into printing another article.

"Moony," Sirius said somewhat timidly. "Do you really think this will work?"

Remus sighed. "I don't know, Padfoot. But, it's worth a shot, right? If all goes according to plan, people could know as early as tomorrow that you want Harry to move in with you so you can give him a proper family." Remus looked at him quietly.

"I don't care about people, Moony, I care about Harry." Sirius replied.

Remus sighed. "Let me rephrase that. If all goes according to plan, _Harry_ could know as early as tomorrow that you want him to move in with you so you can give him a proper family." He paused here before continuing. "I'd say that's worth it, wouldn't you?"

Sirius looked back at him. "It's worth the world."

"Good, because according to Dumbledore, that's what we're giving up," Remus said darkly.

"Oi, when he finds out about this, he'll skin us alive," Sirius groaned.

"Yes, he most certainly will," Remus stated resignedly.

Just then a small, twitchy man dressed in very shabby robes walked cautiously to their table. "Mr. Lupin?" he addressed Remus.

"Yes, that's me," Remus smiled. "And this is Sirius Black."

The man paled, but offered his hand to each of them and said, "Ignatius Delch."

"Please, have a seat," Sirius said, all traces of self-doubt vanishing. If there was one thing he had learned growing up in the Black household, it was learning how to look calm when he was actually nervous as hell. He surveyed the man carefully, taking in his features before leaning back in his chair and getting straight to business.

"I want you to print a different article," he stated confidently.

"Excuse me?" Delch questioned. "What kind of article?"

"I still want all of the vital information there, naturally. It still needs to state that Peter Pettigrew had been found alive and was tried in court, revealing that he had framed me and was guilty of all the charges I had been imprisoned for," Sirius explained calmly. He then added with quiet conviction, "And be sure to make it explicitly clear that Pettigrew betrayed the Potters, _not_ me."

Delch was hunched over a piece of parchment he had laying on the table and he was scribbling furiously across it with an old, broken quill. He then looked up and nodded. "Allright, that was all in the first article. Why do you need a new one?"

Remus and Sirius shared a glance before simultaneously giving him their most calculating looks, and they smiled grimly when the man shuddered under their harsh scrutiny.

"What we are about to tell you…" Remus said seriously, "is true, inside information. You have to give us a Wizard's Oath that you will not…_distort_ this information in anyway."

The man's eyes widened at the mention of a Wizard's Oath and he seemed to hesitate, but he then nodded vigorously after Sirius lazily threw a heavy sack of galleons on top of his parchment.

Delch quickly took the sack and shoved it in his bag before speaking. "I understand. You have my oath as a wizard, the only person who sees this before it gets published is my editor."

Remus narrowed his eyes at him. "And you won't tell this information to anyone?"

"Never. You have my oath." Delch said firmly.

Remus nodded and sat back, secure in the fact that if he tried to alter any of the information or slander them in any way, he would lose his magic.

Sirius then hesitated before speaking, "I want you to add in a live interview with me." Delch beamed at him. Oh, a live interview with Sirius Black would make his boss very, very happy with him. "Furthermore," Sirius continued, "…I want to talk about Harry Potter."

At the mention of Harry Potter, Delch jumped and fell sideways right out of his seat. Sirius rolled his eyes as the scrawny man struggled to get himself back in his chair.

"H-Harry Potter?" Delch squeaked.

"Yes, Harry Potter," Sirius confirmed slowly, as if talking to a three year old.

Delch stared at him blankly before yanking a whole stack of parchment out of his bag and plopping it down on the table. He then loaded his quill with ink, leaned over his parchment, and looked at Sirius intently.

"Allright, Mr. Black, what exactly is your relationship with Harry Potter?"

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A/N: Well, there's Chapter 12. I hope you all enjoyed it! I'm so sorry for the long wait yet again. I'm going to make an honest effort to post a new chapter every two weeks. Please bear with me! In consolation, Chapter 13 should be posted in roughly 24 hours. Chapters 12 and 13 were originally one chapter, but it got so long I decided to split it up. Stay tuned for more! Lots of angst coming up. Please, please, PLEASE review!

Xoxo,

Willow Ann


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Okay, so not 24 hours… more like 96, but still, 4 days! Definitely a record. I hope you all enjoy the chapter, please review!

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Sirius was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed lazily across his chest as he surveyed the man in front of him. Delch had been in the same position for the last twenty minutes- hunched over his parchment and writing furiously on page after page. After further thought (and more galleons), Sirius and Remus had asked the man to write the article in front of them. This way, they could see it and check to make absolutely sure that the information was correct. They weren't taking any chances this time- Harry was going to know what was really going on.

Finally, Delch sat up and threw his quill down, wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

"There," he said, shoving the papers across the table. "All finished."

Sirius smiled at him and said, "Allright then. Let's take a look."

He then moved the parchments slightly to the right so Remus could read along with him. They both snorted slightly when they read the title.

_**Sirius Black: The Truth Behind the Madman**_

_There is not one person in our world who does not know the __name of Sirius Black. However, there are few who actually know the truth __behind this remarkable man. At age 22, Black was wrongfully accused __of betraying the Potters and blowing up a Muggle street- killing a __dozen Muggles and a fellow wizard, Mr. Peter Pettigrew. Black was __brought immediately to Azkaban without a trial. However, if there __had been one, officials would have realized the truth much sooner. _

_Contrary to popular belief, Sirius Black was NOT the Potters' secret keeper. The real secret keeper was Peter Pettigrew. He betrayed the Potters, and when Black confronted him on a Muggle street, it was in fact Pettigrew, NOT Black, that killed the muggles and then framed Black for the crime. Pettigrew himself is an unregistered animagus who takes the form of a rat. He cut of his own finger and let ministry officials believe that Black killed himself as well. _

_Since his escape from Azkaban three years ago, Black has been in hiding, but always searching for Pettigrew in order to prove his innocence. _

_In the end, help came to him in the form of his sixteen year old godson. _

_After his parents' deaths and his godfather's imprisonment, Harry Potter was forced to live with his muggle relatives- a fact that has infuriated wizards and witches alike for many years. However, in his third year, Mr. Potter met Black and they have been communicating ever since. At the Hogwarts annual start of term feast, Mr. Potter found and captured Pettigrew in his rat form and turned him in to the Ministry, where he was tried and found guilty of being a Death Eater, betraying James, Lily, and Harry Potter, murdering twelve muggles, and framing Sirius Black. He is currently being held in Azkaban and will be given the Dementors Kiss before the week is up. _

_Now that Black has been proven innocent, the question is: What does he plan to do with his freedom? _

"_The very first thing I'm doing is buying a house for me and Harry. He's been without the family he deserves for far too long, and I'm going to rectify that." Clearly, Black knows exactly what he wants for himself and his godson. _

_After further questioning about his intentions with Mr. Potter, Black stated, "Harry is the most important person in my life. He is my life. Because of… certain circumstances, there have been times when I haven't always been there for Harry, and there is no way for me to possibly express how sorry I am. But those times are over now. He is my top priority, and I will do everything I possibly can to be there for him. Always."_

_This statement brought up the issue of the ever growing threat of You-Know-Who. It seems as though rumors are always sprouting up about Mr. Potter's most recent duels and escapes from death. Many are wondering how Black can protect Mr. Potter from the frequent attacks on his life. "Protecting a child is always a parent's first concern. It was James and Lily's first concern, and it will be mine as well. I will go to any lengths possible to ensure Harry's safety. Remus Lupin, a dear friend of mine and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for his second year now, will be working with me to train Harry in any we can."_

_Although some are skeptical about the parenting abilities an ex-convict could have, there is no reason to worry. No one could be more perfect for the wizarding world's hero than Sirius Black. It is on this note that we leave two of the most famous wizards in history: "I love Harry. It's as simple as that. I'll take care of him, I promise." _

_-------Article written by Ignatius Delch_

Sirius took a deep breath and looked up at the reporter in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but realized that nothing he said could possibly express what he was feeling. He clamped his mouth shut and looked steadily at Delch for a few moments before extending his hand out to him.

"Thank you," he finally said. "It's perfect."

Delch smiled and grasped Sirius' hand, shaking it firmly. "You're more than welcome. Good luck. I really do think you and Mr. Potter will be very happy."

"I hope so," Sirius replied.

Delch then held out his hand to Remus, who shook it as well. "Honestly, we can't thank you enough."

"It was no problem, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black. I'll give this article to my editor and it will be in the papers tomorrow morning. It was a pleasure doing business with you two. If you ever need another article written, please, don't hesitate to send me an owl."

They both nodded and smiled at him, and then watched as he gathered his papers and then left the bar.

The two friends were silent for a long while, each thinking about the monumental importance of what they had just done. Loophole or no loophole, they had gone against Dumbledore's orders, and there were bound to be horrific consequences. But… if Harry read the article they had just created, he would know the truth. He would know that Sirius was sorry…and that he wanted to take care of him… and that he loved him. And that was worth anything that Dumbledore could possibly throw at them.

"Rem…" Sirius said slowly. "If what we just did was so amazing… then why do I feel like something is about to go terribly wrong?"

Remus looked at him, but didn't respond. Instead, he slid an arm around Sirius' shoulders and gave them a brief squeeze before he pulled them both to their feet. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would confirm Sirius' fears.

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Hermione was walking down the girls' staircase, feeling slightly less awake than she normally did. She readjusted her bag and ran a hand through her hair, trying to make it look slightly more manageable since she knew it would be about twice the size it normally was due to her lack of sleep. She puzzled for a moment over why her hair would be affected by the amount of sleep she got, but then decided she should save her energy for arithmancy problems, not hair problems.

Truthfully, the reason for Hermione's restlessness was Harry. They'd only been back at school for a few days and already she could see that the Harry she used to know was gone. And if she wasn't careful, she'd lose him altogether. She walked dazedly across the common room and plopped down in an armchair, unaware of her surroundings. She wanted to help Harry, but she knew that she couldn't and that fact was killing her. She couldn't bear to just watch her best friend slowly close himself away from the rest of the world. She had to do something. She had to help him. But how? He needed Sirius, and she couldn't give him that. And although she hated to admit it, she knew that no matter how many books she looked in, she wouldn't be able to find a way to bring people back to life.

She sighed as her thoughts drifted to Sirius. She had been unconscious when he had fallen behind the Veil, but from what she heard, he had died bravely, fighting for his godson. She admired him for that… but, at the same time, she couldn't help the small feeling niggling at the back of her mind. Why couldn't he have just stayed at Grimmauld Place like he was supposed to?

The niggling feeling soon turned into outright anger, and her features hardened. Why? Why did he have to go running off into battle? She had heard stories about The Marauders- about them being reckless and arrogant- and he had proved every single story correct. Did he not think about what would happen to Harry if he died? If Harry lost another person he loved? And what about Professor Lupin? Sirius was all he had left, and he—

Her thought stopped abruptly. Professor Lupin. Sirius was Lupin's best friend- she had seen them together, and she knew that Lupin depended on him. Sirius had just died, Lupin should be a mess, but…he isn't. He's here, at Hogwarts, teaching along side another professor! '_And, honestly_, she huffed to herself. _The way they banter with each other, you'd think they'd been doing it for ages!'_

And now that she thought about it, there was something… _off_ with the new professor. Granted, he was nice, and funny, and very skilled at Defense… but something just didn't add up. And he did look awfully familiar—

"Morning, 'Mione," a quiet voice said.

Hermione squeaked and jumped about a foot into the air.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "I didn't see you there!"

"Apparently not," he replied in an amused voice. "Get much sleep?"

"Well, no, actually—" she started, but she stopped as she took a closer look at Harry. He was pale- in fact, he was so pale that he looked almost ghostly, and the circles under his eyes were so dark they almost matched the color of his black robes. He looked absolutely exhausted, sitting in the exact same position he had been when she had left him to go to bed last night.

"Hang on!" she said. "Harry, have you been here all night?"

"No," he replied truthfully. He had spent most of the night in the Room of Requirement, working himself into numbness. He had gone up to the dormitory to shower and change around four o'clock and then had returned to the common room. He had been there for hours, staring blankly into the fire as he sat, slouched and unmoving, on a couch. Normally he would sleep for about four hours, but last night was the first time he hadn't gone to bed at all. What was the point? Sleep only brought nightmares that he wasn't prepared to face.

"Harry…are you allright?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

He smiled at her slightly. "I'm fine, 'Mione."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Ron and Ginny came meandering down the stairs at exactly the same moment, bumping into each other slightly as they made their way over to their friends. They glared at each other and Ron looked like he was about to either bite his sisters head off or fall asleep standing right in the middle of the common room, so Harry decided to interrupt before Ron did something…stupid.

"Ready for breakfast, Ron?" he asked.

Ron turned and looked at him, nodding his head as he started walking towards the portrait hole. Hermione eyed Harry speculatively as they followed Ron out into the corridors, noting how skillfully the boy had maneuvered his way out of her question. She didn't know if she liked that he possessed that particular skill.

Once in the Great Hall, Hermione and Ginny sat across from Ron and Harry and they all began putting food onto their plates. Ron immediately had his mouth full and Hermione pulled out a book and propped it open against a jug of pumpkin juice. Across the table from him, Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry, and he responded with a small grin.

"When are you having Quidditch trials?" she asked as she reached for a plate of eggs.

"I was thinking Saturday. That way no one will have homework or anything," he responded.

"Even if they did, they'd still come to trials. I mean, it _is_ Quidditch, after all!" Ron cut in.

Harry smiled and shook his head affectionately as Hermione gave Ron a glare over the edge of her book. He then paused and turned back to Ginny.

"I totally forgot. What will you do? I mean, you were seeker, but so am I—we could have seeker trials too, open them to everyone, that way it'd be fair—"

Ginny laughed and cut him off. "Oh, please, Harry, don't waste the time. We all know you're the best seeker Hogwarts has ever seen!"

Harry blushed and tried to protest, but she just waved him off and continued, "I'm trying out for Chaser anyway."

Harry looked at her, surprised. "Really? I didn't know you played Chaser."

"Oh, yeah!" Ron said. He paused to swallow when Hermione swatted at his head with her book before continuing. "She's an amazing Chaser! Just you wait, Harry, she'll be the best out there on Saturday!"

Ginny blushed as Harry once again turned his eyes to her. He looked like he was about to say something, but he was interrupted as hundreds of owls suddenly swooped in through the windows.

Up at the Staff Table, Sirius' hand shot out and clamped down around Remus' arm.

"This is it, Moony," he said quietly as he watched the owls sweeping all around the Hall. A tawny owl was flying towards them, and it landed gracefully in front of Sirius' plate, holding out its leg. Sirius paid the owl and took the newspaper, holding it in trembling hands.

"Open it," Remus urged when Sirius merely looked at it.

"I—I can't." Sirius replied.

His head jerked up suddenly when a large _CRASH!_ came from the Gryffindor Table. Hermione was staring wide eyed at the newspaper, pumpkin juice spilling all around her from the jug she had knocked over when she had leapt up from her seat.

Sirius turned back to the paper in his hands and ripped it open, reading the title quickly- **Sirius Black: Free and Unburdened. **Sirius' blood turned icy as he frantically skimmed the rest of the article.

"Fuck," he whispered. He then looked up at Remus, eyes wide and terrified. "What did they do, Remus? This… this isn't my article."

Remus was staring down at the article in shock. "Oh, yes, it is, Sirius. It's just not all of it."

"_What_?" Sirius asked incredulously. "What do you mean, 'not all of it'?"

But Remus didn't answer him. Instead, he was flipping quickly though the pages of the paper, scanning the bottom of every page. Finally, when he reached the last page, he slammed the article down on the table with a resounding _thud!_

"There," he said, pointing to tiny writing on the very edge of the paper.

Sirius looked at his friend in bewilderment before bending down hurriedly over the page to read the minute script.

"Shit…" he breathed, before reading the words aloud. "'This article was edited by Rita Skeeter.'"

"Oh, shit," Sirius repeated, burying his head in his hands. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…"

"Sirius."

A stern voice cut through Sirius' profanities, and he raised his eyes up to peep over the edge of his hands only to meet the gaze of a very angry Dumbledore.

"Do you, perhaps, have something that you wish to tell me?" he inquired coolly.

Sirius brought his head out of his hands completely and said firmly, "Yes, but not right now."

He then turned away from Dumbledore and turned his attention back to the students. There was whispering erupting all around the Great Hall, and people were talking rapidly with their heads thrust closely together, shooting looks over at the Gryffindor Table.

Sirius swallowed and brought his gaze over to where everyone was looking. Hermione was standing and moving slowly backwards away from the Gryffindor Table, her eyes wide, mouth clamped shut tightly with the paper clutched to her chest. Harry, Ron, and Ginny were all standing as well, clearly asking for the article.

Sirius watched in amazement as she just shook her head rapidly and clutched the paper more tightly. The Great Hall quieted suddenly when she spoke.

"Harry," she said shakily. "There… there has to have been some… some sort of… misunderstanding. Obviously it's… it can't be… it's definitely not true… I mean…well, er…"

"Hermione," he said quietly, looking her in the eye. "It's obviously about me. Please, just give me the paper."

She seemed to hesitate before taking a deep breath and saying, "No."

"Hermione," he said again.

"No."

He caught her gaze and looked at her steadily before climbing easily over the Gryffindor Table and walking up to her slowly, still looking her in the eye. He stopped when he was almost nose to nose with her, still meeting her gaze squarely.

"Hermione, please, give it to me," He requested, still speaking quietly.

Once again, Hermione said, "No," although her resolve seemed to be breaking and she started to tremble slightly. Several silent moments went by, and Harry just stood there, looking at her.

"Give it to me," he whispered, finally, and he held out his hand.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Hermione handed the paper over to him. Harry took it and smiled at her slightly, and then dropped his gaze down to the paper.

And Sirius' eyes slid shut as he saw his godson start to read the article that would shatter his already broken heart.

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A/N: That's it! Hope you all enjoyed it! The next chapter should be up shortly, I've already got it all planned out. Please review!

Xoxo,

Willow Ann


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Hello everyone! Chapter 14 is finally here, but I've got two things to take care of before the chapter begins.

Firstly, it was brought to my attention by a lovely reviewer that I have yet to post a disclaimer for this story. It was definitely not my intention to leave one out, because as you all know, _the amazing Harry Potter characters we all love so much belong to J.K. Rowling, not myself_. (There's the disclaimer, **Clodia**! Thanks so much, copyright issues are the last thing I want. I hope you like the next chapter!)

Secondly, I want to dedicate this chapter to two amazingly loyal, lovely reviewers. **Md** (aka Kitkat) and **Aerohead**- you both are absolutely wonderful, thank you so much for all of your support! Your emails get me writing faster than anything else in the world, thank you so much! Please, please continue nagging me as much as you want, I really do appreciate it (and it works, as well)! I hope this next chapter was worth the wait.

Allright, that's it! I hope you all enjoy the chapter.

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'_This isn't happening._' Harry thought frantically, feeling the panic rising up in his chest. '_He wouldn't… he would never say…No. This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening…' _The mantra replayed itself over and over inside Harry's head. It couldn't possibly be true. It had to be fake. It was…some sort of set up. Yes, that was it. It had to be. It was a Death Eater, someone trying to hurt him. _'And it's working.'_ Harry thought bitterly. He _was_ hurt. He hurt so much. A frosty numbness was seeping into every pore of his body; icy fingers were wrapping themselves around his heart and squeezing the life out of him, dragging him down into darkening coldness.

Harry couldn't breathe. He couldn't hear, couldn't see. His arm dropped down limply to his side and the paper slipped from his trembling fingers, floating softly to the floor. He looked up from the empty space the paper had left behind and glanced around him. He took a startled step backwards and his breathing became ragged as he saw the walls moving in around him, getting closer…closer. Harry's eyes snapped quickly around him, looking for an escape from his rapidly constricting world. But everywhere he looked, a wall was creeping towards him, closing him in…trapping him.

Harry jumped slightly as he felt fingers brush his arm, and he turned his head to find himself staring into Hermione's face. He saw her crying…saw her lips moving, forming words, but Harry couldn't hear them. He looked around in a daze and saw Ron moving towards him. It seemed to take his friend ages to cross the distance between them, and when Harry felt an arm wrap around his shoulders he looked up slowly into Ron's face. His lips were moving too…why couldn't he hear? Colors were blurring together, his world was becoming foggy, and suddenly a harsh gasping noise was coming from deep inside him, echoing between his ears and rattling throughout his head. Harry looked around him in confusion- what _was_ that? Surely that wasn't _his_ breathing… was he even breathing at all anymore? He couldn't tell. He shook his head violently and then swayed on his feet as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

He felt another arm quickly wrap itself around his waist, and he jerked away from it and out of reach. His eyes snapped back into focus and he turned, taking a few steps backwards away from his friends.

"Harry..." Hermione said shakily, her voice watery with tears.

Harry looked at her and opened his mouth to respond, but stopped and closed it again. Nothing he said could make this right. Nothing would make it better, and nothing would make the pain go away. That's what his life had become- endless, heart shattering pain.

Harry clamped his eyes shut and hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn't deal with this. He took yet another step backwards and felt his right foot collide with something solid. He looked down and saw his book bag lying on the floor. He stared at it as a comforting thought started to form in his head. He couldn't deal with this…so he wouldn't.

"We…we have class." Harry said in a scratchy voice.

Ron and Hermione shared an alarmed look, both thrown off by their friend's random statement.

"What?" Ron asked, bewildered. "Harry…"

Harry looked up and met Ron's eyes squarely. "We have class. Potions, actually."

Ron continued to stare at him in disbelief and Hermione took a small step towards him.

"Oh, Harry!" she said, still sniffling. "We don't have to go to class."

Harry raised his eyebrows at her and said, "Hermione, I'm surprised. Next time you want me and Ron to do our homework early, I'll remind you of that sentence."

She wasn't being fooled, though. "I know what you're trying to do, Harry," she said quietly.

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly as he said, "I'm _trying_ to go to Potions." His voice was dark, dropping in pitch and volume as his heart broken emotions started morphing into anger.

"You hate Potions," Hermione said. "We don't have to go. We… we have to talk about this."

"No," Harry said, his voice deathly quiet. His face was impassive, but his eyes glinted dangerously as his rage simmered up to the surface.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly as the air around him started to crackle slightly, but she opened her mouth to keep talking. She paused, however, when she felt Ron's hand dart out from his side and grasp hers in his own, squeezing slightly.

"Hermione…I wouldn't," he said warningly.

She looked at him for a moment before turning back to Harry.

"Harry, please, we--" but she was cut off by a loud _BANG!_ that went ricocheting off the walls as the glasses on the Gryffindor Table suddenly exploded into thousands of pieces.

People all around the hall let out a startled screams at the sudden noise and Ron visibly jumped before staring in shock at the now demolished tableware. Their gazes were suddenly yanked back to Harry as he snatched his bag from the floor and started walking quickly but calmly out of the hall, face devoid of any emotion.

"I'll see you in class," he said over his shoulder before disappearing out of the Great Hall.

A shocked silence reigned in his wake before it was broken quietly by Professor Dumbledore.

"I believe you all have classes to attend. Please wait patiently for your teachers," he said softly, but a distinctive edge could be heard under his seemingly gentle tone.

The noise of hundreds of students scrambling out of the hall was slightly subdued and eventually the teachers were left, sitting in astonishment, behind the staff table.

Sirius was sitting rigidly in his chair, staring straight in front of him with wide eyes. He then took a deep, shaky breath and said, "Albus, I--"

"Be quiet, Sirius," he said lowly. He turned his attention to Snape. "Severus. You have Harry in your class next. Please keep an eye on him."

Snape nodded curtly and got up to leave, but Dumbledore spoke again. "And Severus… do not antagonize him. If I hear that you have, I will be most displeased."

Snape sneered for a moment before nodding again and stalking off to the dungeons.

"The rest of you, excluding Sirius and Remus, may go to class. Please keep an ear out for any rumors you might hear and come directly to me if you discover anything of interest," Dumbledore instructed.

The rest of the teachers murmured their agreement and headed off to their classes, leaving Dumbledore alone with Sirius and Remus. He turned to face them and surveyed them in eerie silence before inquiring, "There is no Defense class at this present moment, am I correct?"

Both men nodded, too ashamed to speak. Dumbledore inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement and then rose, saying, "Then you will both accompany me to my office."

He got up and quickly made his way through the hallways, Sirius and Remus trailing behind him. They both had their heads down, studying the floor, afraid to even look at each other.

When they reached the stone gargoyle Dumbledore spoke the password and climbed onto the staircase, Remus following closely behind him. Sirius hesitated for a moment but then stepped resignedly on after his friend. How had things gone so horribly wrong?

Finally they were all settled inside the circular office, Dumbledore behind his desk and Sirius and Remus in chairs across from him. As he sat glowering at them, neither man had the courage to speak.

The deadly silence was eventually broken by Dumbledore, who spoke in a quiet, stern voice.

"Hogwarts is a magical school," he said.

Both men, previously looking anywhere but at him, suddenly snapped their eyes onto his. Of course Hogwarts was a magical school! What was he talking about? Dumbledore, however, merely looked at them.

"Hogwarts is a magical school," he repeated. "She is unlike any other building in the world. She is alive, she has a spirit. She recognizes certain people; she teases, helps, and takes care of her students. If called upon… she would defend her students. She was built by magic, she is maintained by magic, but most of all she is a home for magic. Thousands of children have passed through these walls over many centuries. They discover magic for the first time here, they make mistakes here, they learn here. They cultivate and shape not only themselves, but their magical cores as well. Hogwarts was designed for all of this. She was designed to love and teach and nourish. She is very old and very powerful." He paused here, looking at his two former students sternly. They both looked back at him, not understanding why he was giving them a summary of _Hogwarts: A History_. When they continued to stare at him blankly, Dumbledore sighed and continued speaking, anger edging its way into his voice.

"Do you have _any_ idea how much raw power it takes to display accidental magic inside of Hogwarts?" he asked.

Sirius and Remus blanched as they caught on to Dumbledore's implications.

"Hogwarts is powerful. She has had the greatest wizards in history working on her, building her. She is the most magical building in the entire world and she is designed specifically for growing children. Accidental magic should not occur, and has never occurred in the past! The amount of power Harry had to exert in order to actually have an effect inside the walls of Hogwarts is tremendous. It should not be possible at all, but Harry has proven time and time again that what is impossible for the rest of us is indeed possible for him."

Dumbledore sighed before continuing, looking into Sirius' eyes.

"Our magic, as you know, is tied to our emotions. Most of the glasses on the Gryffindor table were completely destroyed. In order for Harry to accomplish such a feat _inside of Hogwarts_…" he trailed off, and then spoke again in a quiet, regretful voice. "You hurt him terribly, Sirius."

Sirius looked at him with anguished eyes, his entire body trembling as he gripped the arms of the chair he was sitting in. "I... I didn't mean to, Albus, I--"

Dumbledore cut him off. "It doesn't matter if you meant to or not, Sirius. The fact of the matter is that you did. You did hurt him. And I honestly don't know if the damage is reparable this time."

Sirius closed his eyes, unable to speak. He heard Remus' voice beside him. "It wasn't all his idea, Albus. I helped him."

"No, Rem, it was my idea," Sirius said, not wanting his friend to get in trouble.

"But I let you. This is just as much my fault as it is yours," Remus said firmly.

Sirius opened his eyes and met Remus' gaze, staring at him intently. Remus was looking back at him, his eyes reflecting the pain and desperation he knew were in his own. Sirius suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude towards his old friend, and he reached out a hand to grasp Remus' arm tightly.

"Why did you let him, Remus?" Dumbledore asked, still barely constraining his anger.

"Because… because it seemed like a good idea," Remus replied brokenly.

The air suddenly shifted around Dumbledore and the two friends braced themselves for the lashing his anger was about to bestow upon them.

"I know you are incredibly smart, Remus, you always have been," he said, his voice radiating power, "but if you honestly believe that this was a good idea, then I must have been mistaken about you for many, many years." He then turned his intensified gaze to Sirius. "And you, Sirius. There have only been two times in the past where I have been truly disappointed in you. One time was not deserved, and the other time was in the middle of your sixth year."

Sirius winced as the painful memory was brought up to the surface, and he felt Remus stiffen slightly beside him. He sent his friend a wary look, to which he received a small, controlled smile in return. Sirius sighed in relief and turned back to Dumbledore, whose gaze was still boring into his. When Dumbledore spoke again, his voice was shaking with repressed fury.

"The article was absolutely repulsive. You said things about Harry I never would have thought possible. I can say to you in full honesty, Sirius, that I have never been so ashamed to call you my student."

Sirius was momentarily shocked by Dumbledore's words, but he then jumped to defend himself. "I never said those things about Harry!" Sirius protested. "How could I? I love him, he's my life! I would never do anything like that to him!"

"Then why is it in ink, for everyone in our world to see?" Dumbledore thundered, standing up.

"THAT'S NOT MY ARTICLE!" Sirius shouted back desperately, leaping up as well so he could face Dumbledore head on.

Dumbledore paused. "What do you mean, Mr. Black?" he asked, his voice quieting slightly.

"You wouldn't let me talk to Harry, but I had to make him understand!" he gushed. "So I found a way to tell him everything I wanted to without physically speaking to him-- I realize it was a loophole, and now I know not to ever do anything like this again! We met with a writer last night, Ignatius Delch, and we talked to him and sat there and watched him write the article! And then we read it, and it was amazing! It was absolutely perfect, wasn't it Rem?" Sirius spun quickly to look at Remus, who nodded his head quickly.

Sirius continued frantically, speaking rapidly in his panic. "It announced my freedom and cleared up the whole Wormtail thing and then said that I loved Harry and was going to buy him a house and we were going to be a family and everything was going to be perfect…" Sirius trailed off, tears running freely down his cheeks. "I read the article Delch wrote, Professor, and that is not my bloody article!"

Dumbledore surveyed him a moment, softened by the raw emotion Sirius was showing. Sirius was not one to show emotion freely, he knew, much like Harry. For him to be this upset… Dumbledore knew he was telling the truth. He then nodded and sighed heavily before sitting down, pressing the tips of his fingers together as he thought. Sirius remained standing for a moment, breathing heavily before suddenly plopping down into his seat in a miserable jumble of limbs.

"Why did you not verify that he would indeed be printing the article he showed you? That was very careless of you--"

"But we did, sir," Remus cut in quietly. "We made him give a wizards oath."

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened. "And he printed it anyway? If he broke the oath, he'll have no magic now. We need to speak with him." Dumbledore rose and made his way to the fireplace.

"Sir, it wasn't Delch," Remus said. Dumbledore turned around to face him and waited for him to continue, a questioning look on his face. "When we made him take the oath, he said, 'You have my oath as a wizard, the only person who sees this before it gets published is my editor.'" Remus sighed miserably before continuing. "His editor is Rita Skeeter. It says so at the end of the article."

Dumbledore's eyes flashed and his entire frame went rigid with fury. "I want you two to stay here until I get back. Do I make myself clear?" he asked sternly.

"Yes, sir," they responded.

Dumbledore then whipped around and grabbed a handful of floo powder, throwing it into the fire and yelling, "Daily Prophet Headquarters!"

He then stepped into the fire and disappeared in a swirl of green flame, leaving two anxious, heart broken men in his wake.

Sirius and Remus turned and looked at each other slowly, stunned at the morning's events.

"… Oh Merlin," Sirius whispered. "Remus…"

"I know, Siri." He replied, knowing without asking that Sirius was running through each individual line of the paper, analyzing how badly it would hurt the most important person in their lives. "I know."

They fell into silence as they waited for Dumbledore. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, and still Dumbledore did not return. At one point Remus pulled out his wand and murmured an incantation, but Sirius was too distracted to notice.

Finally Dumbledore returned a little over three hours since the time he had left, looking slightly worn out but immensely pleased with himself.

"…What happened, Albus?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

"I've taken care of it, Sirius," he replied. "There is nothing for you to worry about." He then looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, "Except for Harry, that is."

Sirius and Remus merely looked at him, shocked at his mild temperament after he had left so angrily before.

"You've… taken care of it? What does that mean? Are… are you still mad at us?" Sirius asked, voice quavering slightly.

Dumbledore sighed. "I am disappointed, but not in the two of you. This is my fault. I am sorry that you felt the need to go to the papers in order to talk to Harry. I fear that this situation could have been avoided entirely if I had let you do what you wanted in the first place."

He then paused and surveyed Sirius over his glasses. "You are his godfather, Sirius. Harry is in your custody. From now on, all decisions on his behalf are made by you. And no, I am not mad at either of you."

Sirius stood stock still, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging slightly open.

"You… you're serious?" he asked, hope lacing its way into his voice.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly as he said, "Actually, I'm Albus. I believe you would be Sirius."

Sirius looked momentarily confused before he caught on and then scowled at the age old pun. He looked ready to retort, but then his face morphed into a small smile. "He's in my custody?" he asked. "For real?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Sirius. For real. Harry is now legally your responsibility, just like James and Lily wanted."

Sirius' eyes filled up with tears and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear them.

He took a deep breath and met Dumbledore's eyes squarely. "Thank you, sir," he said sincerely. "I'll take good care of him, I promise," he whispered.

Neither Dumbledore nor Remus replied to his last, quiet statement, as they were not quite sure if Sirius was talking to them… or to James and Lily.

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A/N: Well everyone, there we go. This was really Part One of a huge, two part chapter. Maybe even three part. The next bit should be out soon. I promise it will be out in less than a month (md and aerohead, here's where you come in to motivate me! Lol). I hope you all liked Chapter 14, please review! And thank you so much to all of you who have reviewed my past chapters, please continue to do so! Feel free to email me, especially if it's to bug me to update faster. I really do work more quickly when people ask for more chapters. Thanks again to all of you, much love!

Xoxo,

Willow Ann


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Twenty One pages and countless hours of my life have gone into this chapter. I hope this lives up to your expectations, because it was the most trying and emotionally exhausting thing I've ever had to write in my entire life.

Anyways, there is almost a ridiculous amount of angst in this chapter- it actually physically hurt me to write some of these scenes. Also, the ships for this chapter should be very clear now.

Much love to my beta, aerohead1980. I couldn't have done this without you! Xoxo. Love also to md, who continued to support me even after I missed the Christmas deadline. I hope the chapter makes up for the wait. Xoxo

I hope you enjoy Chapter 15 of Returning, and please, for my sake, review!

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Harry sat alone in the Potions classroom, staring silently straight ahead of him. The only movements he made were caused by the slight tremors that would run through his body every so often. '_It's okay',_ he told himself. '_I'm fine.'_ But… he knew he wasn't. He wasn't fine, and he probably never would be. His heart was thudding painfully in his chest, and Harry wanted nothing more than to go to sleep for a very long time.

He jerked suddenly when he felt someone sit down beside him, and he looked to his right to see Ron and Hermione settling down next him, taking out their potions supplies. He glanced around the classroom and noticed that the rest of his class had entered without him realizing it. His eyes flickered back to his friends, and as he met their worried gazes, he felt something inside him crumble a little bit further. He sighed and looked down at the desk. Ron reached out a hand and grasped Harry's shoulder, but Harry shrugged it off gently and pulled away.

"Don't," he whispered. When they continued to look at him anxiously, he continued, "Please, just don't."

Ron looked about to say something, but the door banged open at that moment and Professor Snape came stalking in, his robes billowing out behind him. He reached the front of the classroom and whipped around, looking at his class closely. He crossed his arms and his eyes drifted across each student, scrutinizing carefully.

"Take your books out and turn to page two hundred and ninety five," he said slowly. When everyone had opened their books to the correct page, he glared as he barked out, "Begin."

He walked slowly around the classroom as the students began shuffling around, getting the proper ingredients and setting up their cauldrons. He smirked when he passed Malfoy and then continued on to the Gryffindor side of the classroom.

Harry had his cauldron all set up and his head was bowed over his book. He was determined to think of nothing but the potion. He focused hard on the writing in front of him, not willing to let any other thoughts enter his head. He worked mechanically, placing in every ingredient with methodical precision. _'Just think about the potion,' _he told himself even has he felt himself begin to lose control just a little bit more. _'It's allright, just focus on the potion.'_

Some time passed, and Harry glanced up when the person in front of him visibly shuddered. He frowned slightly in confusion before he realized that Professor Snape was standing in front of Neville, glowering at him menacingly. Then with one sweep of his wand, he cleared Neville's potion and said, "How you managed to make it into this class is beyond me, Longbottom. Twenty points from Gryffindor."

When Neville merely stared up at him, wide-eyed, Snape leaned down and hissed, "Begin. Again."

Neville let out a tiny squeak and ducked his head, drawing the first ingredient again and placing it into his now empty cauldron.

Harry sighed in sympathy before looking back at his potion, which was the exact same shade of blue as Hermione's. According to his textbook, he had to measure exactly three phoenix tears and then mix it into a phial with murtlap essence. Once he added that, his potion should start to shimmer slightly.

He reached across the desk for the phoenix tears and carefully poured three drops into a separate phial. He then grabbed the murtlap essence and tipped it carefully over the phial containing the tears, watching as it trickled slowly from one phial to the next.

Harry was startled, however, when he heard a slight clinking noise. He was momentarily confused before he realized that his hands were shaking badly- so badly that the two phials were knocking together, creating a tinkling noise as they brushed together.

Hermione lifted her head, curious as to what was causing the quiet noise she was hearing. The questioning look on her face quickly morphed into pained sympathy as she realized that Harry was trembling.

She leaned over Ron and whispered, "Are you allright, Harry?"

Harry opened his mouth to tell her that he was fine, but he paused when a shadow appeared over him. He looked up to see Professor Snape towering over him, glaring at him darkly.

"What are you about to add, Potter?" he asked in a deadly quiet voice.

"Pheonix tears and murtlap essence, sir," Harry replied, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Are you sure?" Snape asked slowly.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

Snape was silent for a moment before he asked, "For how many minutes are you supposed to stir the potion after you add the mixture?"

Harry thought quickly before saying, "Six and a half, sir."

"Which direction?" Snape rebounded quickly.

"Counter-clockwise," Harry replied steadily.

"Which ingredient is next?" Snape asked, his eyes narrowing.

Harry narrowed his eyes right back at Snape, and bit out, "Powdered unicorn horn."

Snape's eyes flashed furiously and his voice sharpened as he asked, "Which is the thirty first step in the making of this healing potion?"

Harry looked at him in disbelief and he heard Hermione huff in anger at the unfairness of the question. Harry tried to scan the page in his head. _'Unicorn horn was number twenty four…so next is…stirring clockwise for two minutes…and then it's those things that look like leaves. What are they again?' _He sighed mentally._ 'Oh, bugger it'._

Harry looked away and said quietly, "I don't know, sir."

"You what?" Snape asked silkily, a smirk gracing his lips.

Harry snapped his eyes back to Snape's and opened his mouth angrily, but then he paused as an idea came to him and his own lips curved upwards in a small smirk.

"I don't know, sir," he said clearly. Snape's eyes flashed triumphantly, but Harry continued before Snape could say anything. "Why don't you tell me?"

Snape's featured molded into fury and he leaned forward and spoke directly into Harry's face.

"Step thirty one in this process is adding the sliced asphodel root and stirring clockwise twice, Potter!" Snape snapped, his voice growing in volume.

"With all due respect, Professor," Hermione's voice cut in, "that's step thirty two." She said firmly. "And the asphodel root is chopped, not sliced," she added as an afterthought.

Snape's eyes whipped over to hers and he yanked the book out of her grasp roughly and looked down at it. There was a short pause before his eyes widened slightly and he slammed the book shut with a loud _THUD!_ and then dropped it angrily onto the floor.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, Granger!" he barked furiously. Hermione opened her mouth angrily, but Snape had already turned his attention elsewhere.

"And Potter!" he yelled.

"Yes, sir?" Harry answered in a hard voice, looking at him with a steely glint in his eyes.

Snape paused before growling, "Get out."

"But he didn't do anything, you can't kick him out!" Ron protested loudly.

"I can and I am, Weasley! Twenty more points from Gryffindor!" Snape said heatedly. He then turned back to Harry.

"Mr. Potter," he said mockingly. "_Get out of my classroom_."

Harry stood up quickly and yanked his bag off the floor.

"My pleasure," he said sarcastically before turning and striding out of the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Harry stalked through the hallways, fuming at Snape's unfairness. Where did he come off, throwing him out of class for being right? It was unfair. _'But when has my life ever been fair?'_ Harry thought bitterly.

His pace eventually slowed as he got further and further from the dungeons, and he eventually found himself meandering slowly back to Gryffindor Tower. Thoughts of potions started to trickle out of his head, and all too soon they were turning in a direction that he would do anything to avoid. Hurt started to well up in his chest and it started to become difficult for him to breathe.

He absentmindedly choked out the password to the Fat Lady and trudged up to the dormitory, collapsing onto his bed as soon as he got there. He placed his hands over his face and tried to steady himself, tried to push all emotions away, but he couldn't do it. No matter what he did, the hurt just kept coming back.

He couldn't believe it was real. There had to be a catch, some ... hidden fact Harry had yet to learn that would make it make the hurt more bearable. _'No, no, no, no, no,' _Harry thought desperately, shaking his head. Sirius would never say that! He would never say any of those things! _'…You also thought he would never lie to you,'_ a small, defeated voice said in Harry's head, '_but he did.'_

Harry let out a pained sob and he lurched upwards into a sitting position. He then reached down and yanked his book bag onto his bed and ripped it open, rifling around inside briefly before roughly pulling out the Daily Prophet, tearing an edge slightly.

He held it in his hands- hands that hadn't stopped trembling in months, and stared at it in horror. In the middle of the text there was a picture of Sirius, smiling and looking the best Harry had ever seen him. The happy face of his godfather made Harry's heart clench painfully, and a sharp stab of longing ripped through him as he looked into Sirius' eyes, which were finally free from the shadows of Azkaban. Harry's focus then shifted to the text around the picture. The article wasn't terribly long, but the words ripped through Harry's soul like shards of ice, sweeping through and tearing away the precarious grip he had on…everything.

**_Sirius Black: Free and Unburdened_**

_Every person in our world knows the story of Sirius Black. However, very few people know the truth behind this rather remarkable, and certainly handsome, man. At the age of twenty- two, Mr. Black was imprisoned for betraying the Potters and blowing up a Muggle street, killing a dozen Muggles and a fellow wizard, Mr. Peter Pettigrew. Mr. Black was brought immediately to Azkaban without a trial. However, a trial would have revealed that Mr. Black had been wrongfully accused and that he was indeed innocent._

_Recent events at Hogwarts brought this dramatic story to light. Harry Potter, now sixteen years old, has always had a need to be the center of attention, as we have seen numerous times in the past. This time, however, his insane notions of heroics happened to have a positive side effect. _

_Potter managed to capture Pettigrew, who was in fact an illegal animagus and was disguised at Hogwarts as a pet rat. Once captured, it was revealed that Pettigrew had framed Mr. Black by faking his own death, and is in fact guilty of the twelve muggle murders, the betrayal of the Potters, and now the set-up of Mr. Black. As a result, Pettigrew will be given the Dementor's Kiss and Mr. Black is now a free man, innocent of all charges._

_The question is, what will Mr. Black do with his newfound freedom? He is a very good looking man, and many are wondering if he will settle down and marry. Others are wondering what will happen with regards to his godson, who is in fact Harry Potter._

_Harry Potter, as we all know, is a difficult child. He is prone to dangerous outbursts and many speculate that he is out of his mind. He also manages to provoke You-Know-Who very often, and has gotten into almost yearly fights with him since entering Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a first year. However, Potter never manages to fight alone; he is constantly leading others to danger and is always hurting the people around him, as is evident by the death of Cedric Diggory in Potter's forth year. Informed sources tell us that Mr. Black himself received a critical injury just this past June during Potter's most recent tussle with Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. People are now wondering how Mr. Black will deal with a problem child such as Potter, and how he will ensure the safety of both himself and his godson. _

"_James was my best friend," Mr. Black says. "He was closer to me than anyone in the entire world, and Harry is his son. It's my duty- my obligation- to protect Harry at any costs. For James. And I'm not going to let James down."_

_Mr. Black's eyes filled up with tears at the mention of his deceased best friend, but he quickly wiped them away in a show of manly strength and continued to talk about his godson. _

"_Of course I love Harry. He looks exactly like his dad, but he has his mother's eyes. When I look at him, it's like I have James and Lily back again."_

_Regarding his plans for the future, Mr. Black said, "I want to buy a house, maybe get married. I was young when I was imprisoned…I was only twenty-two, and now that I'm free I want to make up for lost time. Harry will obviously have to live with me, since I'm his guardian, but I suppose he's going to be a bit of a burden. I'd like to start dating again, get my own place, and start my **own** family."_

_Many people would consider a godson part of their family, but when questioned, Mr. Black said, "James was my family, and I guess Harry kind of got strung in because of James. But I want to start a **real** family and have **real** children. Sure, I love Harry like a son, but I kind of have to, don't I? I'm sure that if I had a son of my own, things would be different."_

_It's obvious that Mr. Black wishes to move on with his life without the burden of Harry Potter, and the general public is wondering how Mr. Black will manage this. _

"_I'm just going to have to try and separate myself from him as much as possible. I'll do all my…godfatherly duties, but other than that, he doesn't need to be a part of my life. I'm finally free after twelve years in prison and almost three years on the run. I don't intend on wasting that freedom on some spoiled, attention seeking brat- even if it is my godson."_

_Well, good for you, Mr. Black! The Daily Prophet congratulates you, and wishes you the best of luck in your new life._

_----Article written by Ignatius Delch_

_-Edited by Rita Skeeter_

Harry was now trembling violently all over, and he clenched his hands into fists around the paper. Everything he had been afraid of… all of his unspoken fears he had kept hidden since he had first met Sirius…they had all been true. Sirius looked after Harry because he had to, not because he wanted to. Harry was a burden. He put all the people around him in danger, just by _existing_.

He dropped the paper despondently onto the floor and clenched his hands back into fists, not realizing when his nails broke the skin and small beads of blood formed on the surface of his palms. Mrs. Weasley had been right; Sirius did see him as a substitute for his dad. Sirius didn't love Harry, he loved James' son, and that realization was so painful to Harry that he found himself unable to breathe as a heavy weight closed in around his chest from all sides.

If someone had told him six years ago that he would be jealous of his dad, he would never have believed it. But as Harry sat, huddled, trembling, and defeated on his bed, he knew that he _was_ jealous of his dad. His dad had the one thing, even in death, that Harry craved more than anything else in the entire world- Sirius' love. And somewhere, deep in his heart, he didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive his father for taking away the possibility of Sirius loving him for him.

And suddenly a fierce hatred rose up in Harry- not at his dad, not at Voldemort, but at himself. Sirius had lied to him--betrayed him-- but still Harry needed him so desperately that it hurt to even think about the possibility of Sirius not being in his life. He shuddered as his mind drifted back to his days at the Dursley's. Slowly being eaten away by guilt, his days were spent on the floor in the corner of his room—the one farthest away from the light. Harry's eyes unfocused as he remembered the many hours he had spent in that corner with his knees drawn up to his chest, hidden in the shadows as his tortured mind forced him to relive painful memories and manifested new terrors of its own.

"No," he murmured aloud. "Don't think about it." He took a deep, shuddering breath as he tried to calm himself. _'Don't think about anything_,' he added mentally. Little by little, Harry forced all of his thoughts into a box in the back of his mind, locking them away from the world.

Wishing he could lock himself away from the world instead, Harry slowly got up and left the dormitory. When he reached the common room, he glanced at the old clock against the wall and saw that the Gryffindors would be in Defense right now. Harry, however, had absolutely no intention of going to that class. Once out in the hallway, he turned left away from the passage that would lead him to the Defense classroom and made his way through the winding stairways towards the Room of Requirement, fully planning on working himself into numbness.

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Hermione was annoyed. The sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins were sitting restlessly in the Defense classroom, only there were no teachers in sight. Where _were_ they? Hermione thought it was rather irresponsible that neither Professor Lupin nor Professor Brion was here, yet they had a whole class of sixth years waiting for them.

However, she knew Professor Lupin, and he wouldn't miss class unless something important had drawn him away. She wondered worriedly if it had anything to do with Harry. '_Well, of course it does_,' she chastised herself. Someone had to be dealing with this morning's events, and it made sense that it would be Lupin. He was, after all, Sirius' best friend, and the article had probably affected him nearly as badly as it had Harry.

_'Oh, Harry_,' she thought sadly. While part of Hermione wanted her professors to turn up so they could teach the class, a more prominent part of her wanted them to be temporarily missing so she could leave and go check on Harry. While she wasn't entirely surprised that he had not shown up for Defense, she was worried about what he was doing instead of coming to class. His reaction this morning had been…devastating. She knew that his world had fallen apart when he had lost Sirius in June, and with the confusion of the article added to the stress he was already under—Hermione was afraid that he wouldn't be able to deal with it.

Hermione sighed impatiently as the minuets ticked by and no professors showed up. "Oh, for goodness sake," she muttered in exasperation.

Ron turned to her. "What?" he asked.

"Where are they?" she hissed. "Honestly, how rude!"

"I dunno, Hermione, but frankly, I'm more worried about where Harry is," Ron replied.

Hermione looked him, suddenly realizing that he had been curiously quiet all day. She took in his features and saw that his face was paler than normal, his bottom lip slightly red as he had been nibbling on it distractedly as he worried. Her heart softened as she saw that he was just as concerned about Harry as she was.

"I don't know where Professor Brion is, but maybe Professor Lupin is with Harry," she said soothingly, trying to reassure both Ron and herself.

He looked at her hopefully. "You think?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's a definite possibility."

"Yeah," he replied, sinking down further into his chair, "A definite possibility."

They lapsed into a brief silence before they both jumped as a piece of chalk flew into the air and started writing a message on the blackboard at the front of the classroom.

"That's Professor Lupin's writing!" Hermione exclaimed as she read the brief message that had unfolded across the board.

Sixth Years,

Class is cancelled for today. Please leave your essays on Dementors on the desk and then you are free to leave.

See you tomorrow,

Professors Lupin and Brion

As soon as she finished reading Hermione quickly gathered her things and stood up, waiting impatiently as Ron fumbled with his book bag.

"Oh, Ron, hurry up!" she said, tugging on his sleeve.

"Okay, okay, relax, will you? I'm ready," he replied, yanking his robe out of her grasp.

They then hurried out of the classroom and into the hallways, making their way back towards the Gryffindor common room. It was lunch time now, and chances were Harry would be in the Tower.

When they arrived, however, Harry was no where in sight. Ron bounded up the steps towards the boys' dormitories, bursting the door open when he got to the Sixth Years' dorms. He sighed, however, as he saw Neville and no Harry.

"Hey, Neville," he greeted tiredly. "Have you seen Harry around?"

Neville shook his head, "No, sorry. I haven't seen him since Potions." He shuddered. "Merlin, that was awful," he muttered to himself.

Ron gave him a sympathetic look before saying, "If you see Harry around, tell him 'Mione and I are looking for him, yeah?"

Neville nodded, "Sure thing, Ron."

"Thanks, mate," Ron replied before quickly going back down into the common room, where he found Hermione pacing around nervously. Her head snapped up as he approached her.

"He's not up there?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Ron shook his head. "Maybe he's already gone to lunch?" he questioned hesitantly, even though he knew Harry wasn't in the Great Hall.

"Oh, please, Harry doesn't eat willingly anymore. Someone's got to nag him otherwise he wouldn't go down to the Hall at all," Hermione replied.

Ron sighed. "Well, he could be anywhere, then," he said logically. "If he doesn't want to be found, he won't be. I suppose the best thing for us to do is just wait until he turns up on his own."

Hermione paused and looked at him. She regarded him thoughtfully before stating quietly, "You grew up."

The tips of Ron's ears turned pink and he said, "Er… thanks. I—I guess I did, a bit, maybe."

Hermione gave him a small smile before saying, "You're right. Even though I'd like to find him now… I suppose—I suppose we should just go to lunch and wait for him to come to us. I—I think he'd appreciate that."

"I think so too," Ron replied with a smile. "Let's go, then."

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But Harry didn't come to lunch. He didn't come to Charms, either, or to Transfiguration. He didn't come to dinner, and he didn't turn up in the common room during the hours after dinner. Eventually Hermione and Ron went to bed at midnight, long after all the others had retired, yet long before Harry would return to the Tower.

When Harry finally stumbled in through the portrait hole, it was quarter past two in the morning. He had spent hours in the Room of Requirement, going through his routines more aggressively than ever before. When his body had been physically exhausted, he had pulled out his homework and completed each assignment to near perfection. He reckoned that Hermione would have been proud of him, had the work been done under… better circumstances.

Having pushed his mind and body past the limits they could handle, Harry's eyes had drooped shut sometime around eight o'clock in the evening. When he had awoken, it was the middle of the night. Harry reckoned that he had passed out- no natural sleep of his was ever dream free for nearly six hours.

So at 1:45 he had dragged himself through the corridors of Hogwarts, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could while feeling like he weighed just as much as the Giant Squid. Every step he took drained what little energy he had away from him, and when he finally reached the common room half an hour later, he collapsed onto the nearest couch and sat there panting for several minutes.

Harry's brow scrunched briefly as he puzzled over why it was the he could work through difficult exercises for hours, yet he was winded after walking through the hallways. Shrugging mentally, Harry cast the thought away. He didn't care.

He stared unblinkingly into the dying embers of the fire. His brain was fuzzy. Every breath he took in scratched at his throat, and he coughed distractedly, trying to clear it. As time passed on slowly and the shadows grew taller on the walls, Harry continued to sit, unmoving, in front of the fire.

When the clock chimed quietly at five o'clock, Harry got up from the couch slowly and made his way up to the dormitory. He moved quietly and systematically throughout the dorm room, going through his morning routine on auto- pilot. Once he had showered and changed, he returned to the common room and resumed his vigil on the couch.

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Ginny slowly opened her eyes and groaned, pulling the covers up over her head. If there was one thing Ginny Weasley hated, it was morning. Wanting desperately to just bury herself under the duvet and go back to sleep, she knew that if she didn't get up now she'd miss breakfast.

Ginny sighed and threw back her covers, shivering as the cool morning air hit her skin. She got up and groggily made her way into the bathroom to brush her teeth, trying to avoid collisions with the other girls who were flitting about around her.

Ginny rarely put on makeup, so as soon as she was dressed she threw her hair up into a ponytail and made her way down into the common room. She looked around for Ron, Hermione, and Harry, but surprisingly she couldn't see any of them. She glanced over at the clock, which read five minutes to eight. Ginny's brow furrowed slightly; normally Hermione at least was down here by this time. Ginny's musings were interrupted by a rasping cough, and she turned to her left and was surprised to see a tuft of black hair sticking up over the edge of the couch. She walked around it incredulously to see Harry sitting there, slouched so far down that she hadn't seen him at all during her initial scan of the common room.

Ginny frowned as she looked at him more closely. His eyes were closed, and his cheeks were flushed very slightly, indicating the beginning of a fever. He coughed again and her heart clenched a little bit as she saw the flash of pain that crossed Harry's face briefly before disappearing. She sat down next to him and he opened his eyes when she placed the back of her hand on his forehead.

"You feel warm," she murmured quietly.

"I'm fine," he replied, his voice hoarse.

She raised a delicately arched eyebrow at him. "Really? Your temperature suggests otherwise."

Harry studied her silently for a moment before looking down at his hands and admitting, "Maybe I'm getting a little sick."

She nodded and took in the features of his face. "You look tired," she commented, "you probably need more sleep."

"No!" he said quickly, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. When Ginny looked startled, Harry realized what he had done and tried to fix his mistake. "I—I mean, I'm not tired. I think I'm just getting a cold or something."

Ginny regarded him skeptically for a moment, but then she suddenly found herself not looking at Harry, but at a mass of bushy brown hair.

"Oh, Harry!" the mass exclaimed. "I was so worried!"

Ginny snickered quietly as she realized that Hermione had come out of no where and launched herself at Harry, hugging him tightly as she continued to ramble about how worried she had been. Harry glared at her through the strands of Hermione's hair as her snickering turned to quiet giggling.

Harry patted Hermione's back and said, "It's allright, 'Mione, I'm fine." He then looked at Ginny and said in mock seriousness, "And don't you giggle at me, Ginny Weasley."

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by her brother's ever so graceful entrance. After Ron had come trudging down the dormitory stairs, he somehow managed to trip over his own feet on the way to the couch, and he ended up sprawled out on the floor by their feet. He groaned and rolled over, catching sight of Harry in the middle of a long line of expletives that left Hermione looking down at him disdainfully.

"…and bloody hell! That hurt! Of course some wanker had to dent the floor, leaving a giant pothole for some innocent bloke to trip over… Honestly, the nerve of some of these people is bloody ridiculous—Harry!" he exclaimed.

Harry couldn't help but grin at his best friend as he sat in a tangled lump on the floor, muttering curses to himself. Ginny burst out laughing, and Hermione had a smile on her lips even though a faint trace of disapproval was still present.

"Harry!" Ron said again. "Where have you been? We were worried!"

"I just got in after you, is all," Harry replied. When all three of his friends continued to look at him expectantly, he added quietly, "I just needed some time to clear my head."

He looked down at his hands, afraid to meet the gazes of his friends. There was a slight pause before it was broken by Ginny. "Well, allright then. Shall we go to breakfast?"

Harry let out a relieved breath and looked up at her, giving her a grateful look. She just smiled back at him and hopped up from the couch before turning and extending her hand to him. Harry looked at her silently for a moment before taking her hand and allowing her to pull him to his feet.

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Harry had no idea how he made it through the day. Furthermore, he had no idea how he made it through the entire week. He went to classes and did all of his homework, but if someone were to ask him what he was learning in a particular subject, Harry doubted he'd be able to tell them.

Sirius had tried to corner him several times over the past few days, but Harry somehow managed to avoid him every time. He had Transfiguration, and McGonagall would have his head if he was late. He had Potions, and Snape hated him enough already. He was meeting Ginny before lunch. He had to go to the library. The excuses kept rolling off of Harry's tongue, and he would walk away before Sirius even had a chance to respond. One time Lupin had called and kept him after of class, but as soon as he approached the desk he had started talking about Sirius. Harry had turned around promptly and left his Professor in mid sentence.

Everything was about _Sirius_. His friends wanted him to talk about _Sirius_. Lupin wanted him to talk to _Sirius_. _Sirius_ wanted to talk to him. Talk, talk, talk, Sirius, Sirius, Sirius. But Harry didn't want to talk at all, and he didn't want to even think about Sirius.

As a result, Harry had slowly started talking less and less as the week progressed. Hermione and Ron were worried about him, he knew. Spending time with them in the common room had become almost unbearable because of the tension that had risen between them. Harry desperately wanted to hide by himself in the quiet sanctuary of the Room of Requirement, but as much as the new tension between him and his friends annoyed him, they were still his friends .They were still Ron and Hermione, and he knew that they cared for him, just like he cared for them. And because of this, he found himself unable to leave them by themselves, hurt and constantly wondering what was wrong with him.

So he had thereby forced himself to remain with them in the common room until everyone had gone to bed. Once they had, he was free to leave, but in the meantime he was obligated to sit in tense silence as they all did their homework together.

A relief to this tension finally came Wednesday night in the form of Ginny Weasley. Hermione had just asked Harry for what seemed like the tenth time if he was allright, and Harry was about ready to snap. But Ginny had suddenly plopped down into the seat next to Harry and said, "Oh, come on, 'Mione, leave the boy alone. He's just doing his homework, unlike that prat over there." She gestured to Ron, who was staring into space with his parchment still mostly blank.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped. "We've been sitting here for two hours, and you haven't made any progress at all!"

"Yes I have!" Ron said defensively. He held up his paper and pointed to the two inches of writing. "I've written a whole paragraph!"

Hermione looked outraged. "That is not a paragraph, Ronald!"

While Hermione and Ron continued to bicker, Harry looked over at Ginny incredulously. With one sentence she had managed to divert Ron and Hermione's attentions off of him and (despite their fighting) onto each other- two things he had been trying to do since fourth year.

"How did you do that?" Harry asked in awe.

Ginny looked up from her parchment. "Do what?" she asked.

Harry motioned vaguely to Ron and Hermione. "That! I—you—look-- " He stopped dejectedly, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Ginny laughed quietly. "Don't worry about it, Harry. Just finish your homework so she doesn't start on you, yeah?"

Harry nodded but continued to look at her somewhat oddly. She tried to go back to her homework, but after a few moments she turned back to him. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing, it's just—you've got ink—well…" Harry trailed off and instead lifted his hand to her face, gently rubbing her cheek with his thumb. After a few seconds he stopped and said quietly, "You had ink on your cheek."

Ginny blushed bright red and replied breathily, "Oh! Is it gone now?"

Harry nodded, and she smiled at him. "Thanks."

"No problem," he replied.

Since then, Ginny had taken to sitting with them every night, quietly doing her homework next to Harry and across from Ron and Hermione. Since then, Harry had found himself becoming more and more soothed by her presence next to him.

Unfortunately, the week only seemed to get worse as it progressed. By the following Monday, the only people Harry talked to were Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Naturally he was forced to reply to a Professor when one directly addressed him, but other than that, he spoke very rarely. He ate less and more sporadically than before, and his sleeping time was almost non existent. Horrible visions had taken to playing themselves out in his head even in his waking hours, and Harry was helpless to stop them as they repeated over and over. Sirius… falling through the Veil again… and again…and again…

Harry shuddered and snapped his eyes open. Where was he? He looked around him, disoriented for a few moments before realizing he was in the Great Hall. But what time was it? He looked down at the table and saw an array of bacon, eggs, and kippers surrounding him. It was breakfast then.

He looked to his left. Ginny was sitting there, and Ron and Hermione were across from him again. Harry was becoming more and more comfortable with this arrangement, and he found himself taking comfort in it- something that didn't come to him often.

"Harry," Hermione's voice said. "You have to eat something. Not at lot, but… at least try some eggs."

Harry looked at her and then glanced down at the eggs, feeling his stomach turn at the sight of them. He wanted to eat, to sooth her worries, but he knew that if he ate that egg he would be throwing it up again sometime in the near future. Harry sighed and speared the egg, dragging it onto his plate, but had no intention of eating it. Hermione, however, beamed at him and then went back to eating her own breakfast.

He cut his egg up and pushed it around his plate dejectedly, feeling sick at the sight of the yellow yolk oozing around his plate. He felt a movement at his side and suddenly his egg covered plate was gone and a new one was placed in front of him, containing only a medium sized slice of dry toast.

Harry looked over at Ginny. She leaned closer to him and whispered into his ear so Hermione couldn't hear. "The eggs look a bit dodgy today, don't you think?"

Harry grinned and nodded at her before she continued. "You don't have to try the toast, but I'd recommend it."

Harry paused and looked at her thoughtfully. She was the first person he could remember for a long time that had not told him he _had_ to do something. It was always "Harry, you have to eat" and "Harry, you have to sleep" and "Harry, you have to make Dudley his food" and "Harry, you have to save the world."

But not with her. Not with Ginny. He continued to look at her, and when she met his gaze and whispered, "Please?" Harry knew that he couldn't say no to her. He looked down at his plate, picked up the slice of toast, and took a bite.

Ginny looked down at her plate to hide the goofy grin she knew was spreading across her face, feeling happiness bubble up inside her. Maybe, just maybe, she could help him get better. Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by a loud, high pitched voice to her right.

"Hi Harry!" the shrill voice said.

She felt Harry jump beside her and she looked over to see Lavendar Brown sitting on Harry's other side.

"Er… hi," he replied awkwardly.

Lavendar giggled annoyingly and batted her heavily made up eyes at him. "How are you?" she gushed. Without waiting for an answer that Harry wouldn't have given anyway, she continued. "Parvati and I were just wondering if you'd like walk with us to Transfiguration, or maybe if you wanted to study with us tonight."

She looked at him in a way that she must have thought was appealing, but Harry rather thought it made her look like a newer, blonder breed of monkey.

"Actually, I usually study with Ginny. Thanks anyway, though," he replied politely.

Ginny beamed at Harry, but her attention was drawn away from him when Lavendar spoke again.

"Oh, hello, Ginny," she replied in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Have you actually _asked_ him to study with you tonight? Because if you haven't, well, I have, and the early bird gets the worm, you know!" She then proceeded to laugh hideously at her own joke, and Ginny took the opportunity to lean over and whisper into Harry's ear.

"Obviously in this case it's an exceedingly good thing you aren't a worm, then," she said saucily.

Harry grinned and shot her an amused look- one that didn't go unnoticed by Lavendar. Suddenly Harry had an arm in his face as Lavendar reached over him to grasp Ginny's chin and tilt her head up lightly. "Why don't you ever wear make up, Ginny?" she asked in a tone of false contemplation. "You could _almost_ pass for cute if you knew how to do yourself up right."

Ginny yanked her face out of Lavendar's grip and looked down at her plate, an embarrassed blush covering her cheeks. Normally she would have shrugged off Lavendar's jibes, but the fact that this one had been in front of Harry left Ginny feeling mortified and ugly. She looked up, however, when Harry's angry voice cut through her musings.

"She doesn't wear it because she doesn't need it, Brown," he said fiercely. "She's beautiful without makeup, unlike other girls I know," he continued, giving her a pointed look.

She heard people around them sniggering in amusement as Lavendar gaped at him like a goldfish. "Well, fine then," she huffed. "Parvati and I will just study with someone else!"

"You do that," Harry replied coldly, watching her as she flounced away and finally flopped down angrily into a seat at the other end of the table.

He then shook his head and muttered, "Ridiculous."

He then finished off the last of his toast before realizing that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all staring at him. He sighed. "What now?" he asked.

Hermione smiled at him knowingly and said, "Nothing, Harry, that was just really sweet."

"What was?" he asked, dumbfounded. What had he done?

"That-- that thing with Lavendar!" Ron said, still chuckling. "Her face was priceless! And you stuck up for Ginny- you're acting like a real Weasley man, now, you are! Not that you haven't always, of course," he added. Hermione smacked him lightly on the arm. "Ow!" he exclaimed.

"But, I was telling the truth! Ginny is beautiful!" he exclaimed, still confused as to what he had done that would qualify as sweet. He then blushed as he realized what he had said—twice. Oh. _That_ was what was sweet.

He then looked sheepishly at Ginny from under his fridge to see her smiling dazzlingly at him. He then relaxed and grinned back her, not knowing what to say.

She then leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the cheek before saying, "Thanks."

"No problem," Harry managed to force out, feeling a blush creeping up his neck.

Harry's stomach dropped as Ginny's smile dropped off her face and she frowned slightly as she put the backs of her fingers on Harry's cheek, and then moved them to his forehead.

"You still feel warm, Harry," she said. "Warmer actually then you did a week ago. You should be better by now."

Harry sighed and looked down into his lap. It always came back to this.

Ginny's heart clenched as she watched Harry visibly deflate and close up again- watched as he locked himself away in the recesses of his mind. _'No!'_ her mind was yelling, _'Stay with us, Harry!'_

She reached out and grabbed his hand, desperately trying to drag him back to her. "Harry--" she started, but Harry looked up and cut her off.

"It's okay, Ginny, I'm fine. Really. It's time for class anyway," he said quietly.

Ginny looked around her. Harry was right, the students were leaving the Great Hall and were heading to their first class. Harry gently pulled his hand out of her grasp and said, "I'll see you later, yeah? Have fun in Charms."

He then turned and walked away, a prisoner within his own head.

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After that, Harry's day got continually worse. He managed to follow Ron and Hermione from place to place, but otherwise he was sure he would have ended up in the completely wrong place. Why did his life always do this? Things start to look up, and then everything comes crashing back down again. He hadn't really defeated Voldemort as a baby, because he had just come back again years later. He hadn't gotten to move in with Sirius after his third year because of Pettigrew. Sirius became his family, but he hadn't gotten to experience that either because Harry had gone and gotten him murdered. And now… now Sirius was back, but he couldn't be with him because Sirius just _didn't want him_.

Harry stopped in the middle of the hallway, suddenly unable to go on. He couldn't move another inch, couldn't take another breath. He couldn't keep living. Not like this. Not ever. He couldn't keep hiding- couldn't keep pretending that everything was okay when it wasn't. Truthfully, Harry had never been as _not_ okay as he was now. He wasn't sure if he could do this at all, but he sure as hell couldn't do it alone. He needed someone to help him deal with the prophecy. He needed someone to help him train against Voldemort. He needed someone to help him sleep. He needed someone to keep the nightmares and visions away. He needed someone to make the guilt and the hurt go away. But most of all, Harry needed someone to save him from himself. Harry _needed_ Sirius.

Harry shuddered and dropped his face into one of his hands, completely defeated. _Why?_ Why didn't Sirius want him? He didn't understand. Sirius had never given any indication before that he hadn't wanted Harry. In fact, he'd always gone out of his way to make sure that Harry was allright. Why now? Why, when Harry was the most vulnerable that he'd ever been in his life, did Sirius decide to hate him? And suddenly Harry had to know. He had to know why.

Harry felt his feet moving as he slowly stepped backwards, his unfocused gaze staring straight ahead of him.

Ron's voice broke him out of his trance. "Where are you going, mate? We have Herbology now."

"Go without me," Harry said distractedly.

"What?" Hermione asked. "But Harry--"

Harry just shook his head and turned around, his pace gradually quickening until he was sprinting through the hallways, desperate to reach his destination.

Finally he stood panting outside the closed door of the Defense classroom. He stood there for a few moments, regaining his composure. A series of harsh coughs ripped their way through his body as he tried to even out his breathing from the run he had just made. But after a few minutes a realized that his breath was still coming nearly as unevenly as before. He then knew that his breath was coming in ragged gasps not because of physical exertion, but because of the raw emotion that was flowing through every part of his body for the first time since June. And he knew that if he wasn't careful, it was going to break him so completely that no one- not even Sirius- would be able to put him back together again.

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Meanwhile, on the other side of the door Remus and Sirius were in the middle of teaching the third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs about grindylows. Remus was actually doing most of the teaching today. As the week had progressed, Sirius had grown more and more depressed as Harry continued to avoid him. Now, a week after the explosive article had first been published, Sirius had all but stopped functioning without his godson.

Remus sighed mentally. Both Sirius and Harry were going through their own personal Hell's, and it was destroying them both. It was obvious for anyone to see that neither of them could continue living like this. Remus shook his head slightly. Something bad was going to happen—_soon_. He could feel it.

Remus' sensitive ears suddenly perked up as he heard a slight movement outside the door. He looked over to Sirius and silently indicated that he should continue the lecture.

Sirius sent him a puzzled look, but picked up where Remus had left of anyway. Remus casually walked across the classroom and leaned against the door, feigning that he was surveying the classes' participation as Sirius randomly called on people to answer questions. In actuality, he was trying to discern what was on the other side of the door. Now that he was close, he could tell there was someone standing there, just on the other side of the door, breathing heavily. Suddenly the person coughed raggedly, and Remus realized with a jolt that it was Harry standing on the other side of the door. Now that Remus know who he was, he could definitely smell Harry's scent, as well.

'_This is it,_' he thought. _'Something's about to happen._'

He suddenly moved away from the door and interrupted Sirius. "We're sorry, but we're going to have to end class here today. Please make sure you've done the reading on hinkypunks for the next class—we'll see you tomorrow!"

As the kids gathered their things in a flurry of movement, Sirius walked up to Remus and said, "What was that all about? I'm all for letting them out early—grindylows are boring—but class doesn't end for another thirty minutes."

"Harry is outside the door," Remus said.

Sirius froze. "What?" he gasped out incredulously.

Just then, the door was flung open from the outside and Harry stumbled in. He grabbed the wall to keep himself from toppling right over before straightening and looking around him quickly. When he saw the third years standing in front of him, gawking at him openly, his eyes narrowed.

"Get out," he said in a quiet, deadly voice.

The kids' mouths dropped open and they quickly scurried out of the room, afraid of Harry Potter. Sirius and Remus exchanged an alarmed glance before turning back to Harry.

Once all the third years had left, Harry quickly slammed the door closed. He then paused, not knowing what to do. Now that he was here, alone with Sirius and Remus, he didn't know what to say. He felt his entire body start to tremble with panic and suppressed emotion.

Finally, he managed to force out the one word that had been haunting him since he had lost Sirius in the first place- the one word that had been in his mind every second of every day since the article had come out.

"Why?" he whispered.

"Harry…" Sirius started, his voice trembling.

"_No_, Sirius," Harry bite out through clenched teeth. "_Why_?"

"Harry, please," Sirius begged, taking a step towards his godson. "I never said any of those things in the article."

"Yes you did!" Harry exclaimed. "They're called _quotes_ for a reason, Sirius, it means that you said them!"

Harry's breathing was increasing even more in speed and he was quickly working himself up into hysterics.

"Harry, you have to calm down," Remus said.

And suddenly Harry's wand was out, pointing straight at Remus' chest. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down. You, who has known that Sirius has been alive for months."

He then paused and turned to Sirius. "It is months, isn't it, Sirius? How long were you actually gone for?"

Sirius looked at the floor and whispered, "Twelve days."

Harry's grip tightened on his wand, and sparks flew out of the tip as he whispered, "Twelve days?"

And then Harry was yelling. "You were gone for _twelve days_, and you let me believe for three months that you were _dead_? You weren't even going to tell me once I got here- I figured it out by accident!"

"Harry, please, let me explain--" Sirius pleaded, tears beginning to run down his face.

Harry paused momentarily as he saw his godfather begin to cry, but he couldn't stop now. He couldn't. He had to keep going.

"Explain what, Sirius?" Harry asked quietly now, his voice breaking with emotion. "How you let me kill myself with guilt the entire summer? How you let me believe that the only family I've ever known was dead?"

Harry's voice steadily began to rise again. "How you spent the entire summer with your best friend, your Marauder in Chief, while you let your godson get shipped away to a house where everyone hates him- where had he to relive your death and wake up screaming night after night after night?"

"Harry," Sirius sobbed, "please--" Sirius reached out, attempting to pull Harry towards him, but Harry slapped his hand away.

"NO!" Harry yelled furiously. "How you disguised yourself as my Professor, how you saw me suffering without you, yet you still didn't tell me you were alive? How you knew that I hate publicity but you went to the papers and publicly confirmed every fear I've had since I first met you?"

Here Sirius froze. "What? No, Harry, the article wasn't true… it was Rita Skeeter… what do you mean, every fear you've had? I would never say any of those things about you!" Sirius said fiercely.

Harry paused for a split second at the mention of Rita Skeeter. She had been lying about him since fourth year… but Hermione had taken care of her. The article was true. "I don't believe you! I know it's true- just admit it!"

"Admit _what_, Harry?" Sirius asked, desperate to get his godson to first calm down and then listen to him.

"That you hate me!" Harry said, anguish lacing his voice as tears began streaming down his face.

Sirius and Remus gasped simultaneously. Sirius lunged forward and grabbed Harry's shoulders, catching him before he could move away.

"Listen to me, Harry," he said, his voice definite. "I do NOT hate you. I could never hate you!"

"Yes you do!' Harry insisted. He was sobbing now, speaking quickly through the great gulps of air he was taking every few seconds. "You hate me for not being my dad, and you hate me because—because just looking at me reminds you of my parents and what you lost--- and you hate me because I'm always-- getting into trouble, and you hate me because I'm always killing the people around me, and you-- hate me because you could do so many other things without me—and--"

Sirius had started shaking his head the minute Harry had started talking. "No," he said, but Harry continued to speak frantically over him.

"Harry," Sirius said, louder, trying to get his attention. But still Harry continued talking until he was in a full blown panic. He was trembling more violently then ever; Sirius could feel the tremors tearing through Harry's slight frame beneath his fingertips. He could tell his godson couldn't breath, that he was hyperventilating, and Sirius knew that if he didn't calm Harry down soon, his godson would end up unconscious in his arms. And while Sirius desperately wanted Harry in his arms, he'd like it if he were awake- preferably hugging him back.

Sirius finally gave Harry's shoulders a good shake and shouted, "HARRY!"

Harry cut off mid sentence and looked at his godfather. His godfather who was so close to him, who was touching him, who was solid and real and alive…and yet so far away.

This thought immediately had more tears spilling down Harry's cheeks.

"Harry," Sirius whispered. "I'm so sorry… that you _ever_ thought that any of that was true. I do miss your parents, but they're gone. They've been gone for a long time, and I accept that. What's not gone, though, what I do still have, is you. You've been through… horrible things, Harry- things that I wish I could take from you and put on myself so you could be happier. _None_ of what happened is your fault. _None of it._ You didn't kill anybody--"

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius cut him off before he could speak.

"No, Harry, listen to me. I promise you, you didn't kill anyone. Voldemort did. Wormtail did. Bellatrix did. But you did not. And Harry," Sirius said with a new note of pleading in his voice, desperate for him to understand, "there is nothing more I want to do with my life then spend it with you and look after you and protect you."

Harry had closed his eyes, but tears were leaking from under his shut lids and were still trickling silently down his face. He was shaking his head, not willing to let himself believe everything Sirius was saying. This is what he had wanted for months. No. This is what he had wanted for years. This is what he needed. But he couldn't believe it… could he?

"Harry, look at me." Sirius said quietly. Harry shook his head rapidly. Sirius slid his hands up from Harry's shoulders until he was cupping Harry's face in his hands, wiping away his tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"Harry," Sirius said again. "Look at me."

And very slowly, very hesitantly, Harry opened his eyes and met his godfather's pleading yet determined gaze.

There was a slight pause before Sirius brushed his thumb over Harry's cheek once more and whispered, "I love you, Harry."

And Harry froze. Everything was dead silent as time stopped. Every single part of Harry was completely still. He had stopped trembling, he had stopped breathing, and at long last he had stopped thinking. Harry even thought that for a split moment, his heart had stopped beating.

But then, ever so slowly, he began to shake again. His breathing became shallower and his heart felt like it had been shredded apart. It had happened again. Life had looked up only to come crashing back down ten times worse. Sirius loved him… but then why did he lie? Even after all this, Harry was right back where he started. Harry shook his head.

"No, you don't," he whispered brokenly. "If you did, you would have told me."

"Oh, Harry, I tried to, so many times! Please, you have to believe me, you have to understand- Dumbledore didn't want you to know in case Voldemort found out through you--"

Sirius was cut of as Harry laughed bitterly. The sound sent chills down Sirius' spine, and he had a sudden flashback of himself being carted off to Azkaban the day after James and Lily were murdered. He shuddered and closed his eyes briefly, trying to block out the memory and regain his composure.

"It all comes back to me and Voldemort," Harry said coldly. "It's always me and him."

And suddenly Sirius was watching as his godson shut down. It seemed to Sirius that Harry was fading, right before his eyes. He reached out to wrap his arms around him again, but he yanked his hand back as Harry went into a coughing fit, the deep, racking coughs ripping brutally throughout his body and making his entire frame seem as though it were going to break in half. And then Harry was gasping for air, swaying violently on his feet as he reached out for something to hold on to.

Sirius was immediately at his side, holding him up. He wrapped an arm around his godson's waist and tried to lead him over to a desk and feel his forehead at the same time. Sirius cursed himself for not noticing it before; Harry was obviously sick. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks were flushed with fever. His cough sounded painful and heavy- like it was coming up from deep inside of his chest. The waist that Sirius had wrapped his arm around was slim- too slim for a boy of Harry's height. Sirius studied his face again, and noticed the dark circles under Harry's eyes. Sirius' mind flashed back to earlier in their conversation. _"…while you let your godson get shipped away to a house where everyone hates him- where had he to relive your death and wake up screaming night after night after night?"_ Sirius closed his eyes in despair before opening them again and looking down at the boy who was struggling in his arms. Harry had nightmares- nightmares about him- that prevented him from sleeping. And suddenly Sirius knew that Harry had done this to himself. Every sign of sickness he was showing was because he was too depressed and too anguished to take care of himself. '_Well_,' Sirius thought determinedly, '_he doesn't have to take care of himself anymore. I'll take care of him_.' He then paused before thinking timidly, '_If he'll let me_.'

"Harry," Sirius said quietly as he sat his godson down at the nearest desk. "You're sick. Please, let me take you to the hospital wing."

"No," Harry whispered. He made to stand up, but Sirius pushed him back down again.

"Please, Harry," Sirius said again. "You can hardly stand up, you have to get Madam Pomfrey to help you. Please, just let me take you."

"No," Harry repeated, forcing himself to stand on his feet and not sway. "I'm fine, Sirius. Just leave me alone."

Harry brushed past him and made for the door.

"No!" Sirius exclaimed, racing after his godson and grabbing his arm to keep him from leaving. "No, Harry. I'm never going to leave you alone again. _Never_."

Harry let out a dry sob and yanked his arm out of Sirius' grip. He lunged for the door and pulled it open, saying, "Please, Sirius. I can't deal with this. Just leave me alone."

He then slipped out of the classroom and closed the door behind him. Sirius was momentarily stunned before he jumped forward and ripped the door open, intending to run after his godson. However, instead of running _after_ his godson, he ran _into_ a fourth year, nearly knocking the poor girl over.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" he said distractedly as he tried to keep an eye on Harry. He was already at the other end of the hallway, moving with the throng of students in the direction of the Great Hall. It was lunchtime now, and students were clogging the hallways, making it impossible for Sirius to keep up with Harry. By the time Sirius reached the end of the hallway, Harry was no where in sight.

Sirius sighed in exasperation and despair and momentarily rested his head against the wall, sorely tempted to bang his head against it until he passed out. He opted, however, to take off in the direction of the Great Hall, and he didn't plan on stopping until he had found Dumbledore.

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Harry had finally managed to make his way back to Gryffindor Tower. Black spots were swimming in front of his eyes as he walked through the empty dormitory and into the bathroom. He was feeling decidedly sick, and he couldn't tell if he was going to throw up or pass out. Neither one, however, was something he wanted to be intruded upon, so he cast a slightly more complex locking charm on the door to the bathroom. He then turned on the sink and splashed cold water onto his face, hoping to clear his head some.

The icy water, however, only made him feel dizzier. The stark temperature contrast between the water and his fevered skin had left him slightly shocked, and he swayed on his feet again. He was too hot. He ripped off his robes and his shirt, throwing them carelessly away from him and onto the floor. He sighed as he cooler air soothed his skin, but his entire body shook again as another coughing fit tore through his lungs. When his coughing finally subsided, he braced himself on the counter and let his head hang down.

Harry's world was now rapidly deteriorating, and he felt himself going with it. He knew he was disappearing, knew he was dying, but he felt too sick, too tired, and too helpless to do anything about it.

Harry glanced up at his reflection in the mirror in front of him and froze. There was something wrong with him. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that there was something wrong. And that something was ruining his life.

And suddenly, Harry was angry. More angry than he had ever been in his entire life- and it was all directed at the boy staring back at him in the mirror. At the boy with James Potter's face and Lily Evan's eyes. At the boy with the tears running down his face. At the boy with the thin, lightening bolt scar on his forehead, just barely visible through his fringe.

Harry clenched his hand into a fist before drawing his arm back and slamming his hand right into the center of his reflection. Spider-like cracks spread out across the entire mirror, starting from where Harry had punched.

And suddenly, Harry saw his real reflection. It was cracked and distorted, and, for once in his life, plainly visible without anything to hide behind.

And Harry drew back his fist a second time and slammed it into the mirror again. This time the mirror broke completely, shards of glass falling everywhere and showering the bathroom with sharp, crystalline particles.

Harry didn't notice the pieces of glass that had embedded themselves into his fingers and forearm, or the slashes that had opened the skin all over his arms and shoulders as glass had fallen down on him from over his head. And Harry didn't notice the smaller pieces that sliced open his skin as he leaned his arms down onto the counter, cradling his head as he sobbed.

Finally the black spots that had been threatening to overtake him since leaving the Defense classroom grew larger, and Harry stumbled over to the door where he leaned his back against it and then slid down its length until he was sitting in the corner next to the door, his knees drawn up to his chest. Harry rested his head on his knees as his the darkness finally came and covered him completely, quieting his sobs and easing his pain.

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Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville had been eating their lunch when Professor Dumbledore had approached them.

"Hello, Gryffindors," he said serenely. "Have any of you perchance seen Harry lately?"

They all shook their heads and Hermione replied, "No, sir. He ran off before Herbology and we haven't seen him since."

"Ah," Dumbledore replied and then paused as he though a moment. "I wonder if you four would mind doing a quick search for him?" he inquired, a slightly concerned note entering his voice.

"No, sir, we wouldn't mind at all," Ginny replied. "Where would you like us to start?"

"Ron, I think you should do the seventh floor corridor. Neville, if you could check your dormitory, I'd be much obliged. And girls, if you could just nip down to Hagrid's and see if he's there, that would be a great help," Dumbledore assigned.

"Sure thing, sir," Ron said. "Allright, let's go."

All four friends got up and went in their own separate directions. Twenty minutes later, Ron had had no luck on the seventh floor, and he ran into Neville on his way back to the Great Hall.

"No luck, then?" he asked as they walked back together.

"No, he wasn't up there. And the door to the bathroom is jammed again, by the way. We'll have to get that fixed," Neville replied.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said absently. "I wonder if the girls had any luck."

But when they met up with Hermione, Ginny, and Professor Dumbledore outside the Great Hall, they found that Harry still hadn't been found.

"Allright, then," Dumbledore said. "Thank you all for your help. Please do let me know if you find him."

"We will, sir," they replied.

Now it was nearing eight o'clock. Dinner was long over, and Harry still hadn't been found. He hadn't even to shown up to study with Ginny- something that he had been doing without fail for last few nights.

Hermione sighed and threw down her quill. "Oh, I can't do work," she said sourly. "Are you sure he's not just in the dormitory? You checked everywhere?"

"Yes, Hermione," Ron said with a sigh. "Neville checked the dormitory, he said…" Ron trailed off as he remembered something_. "…The bathroom door is jammed again, by the way. We'll have to get that fixed."_

Ron suddenly sprang up from his seat and leaped up the stairs three at a time. He burst through the door to the dormitory, scaring the wits out of Neville, who had been rummaging through his trunk. Ron raced over to the bathroom door and tried to open it, but it was firmly locked.

"Ron, it's jammed, remember?" Neville asked.

"No, it's not," he replied. "It's locked."

"What?" Neville asked, but Ron ignored him.

Ron whipped out his wand. "Alohamora!" he said firmly before trying the door again, but it was still not budging.

He pounded on the door.

"Harry!" he yelled. "It's me, Ron, let me in!"

No response from the other side. "Damnit, Harry," Ron muttered in exasperation. He shifted his body slightly, preparing to throw his weight into the door, but he felt his foot slip slightly on something slippery.

He looked down and muttered, "What the bloody hell is on the floor?"

"Lumos!" he said, pointing his wand at the floor. The lighted tip of his wand showed that a small, dark puddle was leaking out from under the door.

"What did you do, Harry, take the world's longest shower and flood the bathroom in the process?" Ron asked, even though he knew Harry wouldn't respond.

He bent down and ran his fingers through the water, and then lifted them into the light. He then let out a loud yell as he saw that his fingers were red. Ron stood up hurriedly, starting to shake as he realized that a puddle of blood was leaking out from under the door.

"HARRY!" he yelled, as loudly as he could. "OPEN THE DOOR! NOW! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"

He then turned and threw his weight into the door, and he winced as his shoulder connected with the wood with a loud _THUD!_ Nevertheless, Ron did it again, and again, desperately trying to break down the door to get to his best friend, who he was now certain was hurt behind this door.

"Neville!" he shouted. "Go and get Professor Dumbledore and tell him we found Harry, and that he's hurt."

When Neville continued to stand in the middle of the dormitory holding one sock, Ron yelled, "NEVILLE! GO!"

Neville jumped and hurriedly threw himself out the dormitory door, running as fast as he could to find Professor Dumbledore.

Ron threw himself once more into the door before sliding down onto his knees, leaning his head against the door. He brought his fingers up to his face again and as he looked at the blood now staining both him and the floor, he whispered, "What did you do to yourself, mate?"

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Oh. My. God.

That was the longest, hardest, most difficult thing I've ever written in my entire life. I can't even begin to tell you how much effort went in to this chapter, so please, please, please, please, PLEASE review!

Thank you all for your support, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that it was worth the wait.

Xoxo,

Willow Ann


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Hello everyone! Haha yes, I live. I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to get out, but it's here now! Wahoo! Thanks as always to my wonderful beta Kristen, who is absolutely amazing and sticks with me through everything. Special thanks also to MD and Von, who emailed me and reminded me to keep going. Thanks!

And now, on with the story! I hope you all enjoy Chapter 16 of _Returning_- Please review!

Xoxo,

Willow Ann

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Neville's footsteps were pounding in synch with the thundering of his heart as he pelted through the hallways, running as desperately and as quickly as he possibly could. '_Get Dumbledore…Get Dumbledore…Get Dumbledore…'_ The chant rang over and over inside his head. If he found Dumbledore, Harry would be all right. He had to be. He _had_ to be.

As Neville hurtled around a corner and flew down yet another corridor, he wondered vaguely to himself, '_Where am I?'_ Neville suddenly lurched to an abrupt stop and nearly toppled right over from his momentum. Never mind where he was… where was Dumbledore? The castle was impossibly huge, he could be anywhere! Panic started to rise up in Neville as he realized that there was no way he could find Dumbledore, let alone find him in time to save Harry, and then Harry would die and it would be all his fault and he would have killed one of his very best friends and…

_Stop._

'_Now is not the time to panic, Neville,' _he told himself, '_Just…just focus.' _ If he couldn't find Dumbledore… who _could_ he find? Neville paused for a moment, trying to think over the noise his labored breathing was creating. Suddenly his eyes widened and he turned around completely and pelted, just as quickly as before, in the opposite direction. He couldn't find Dumbledore, but McGonagall could. And he could definitely find McGonagall.

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Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his desk with his fingers steepled together, staring down at the parchments spread out in front of him. The parchments contained the most recent information from the Order of the Phoenix: hidden information to be found, problems to be solved, and yet- nothing they had accomplished, no advancements to place them one step ahead of Voldemort. They were constantly behind, constantly losing people. The aftermath of the latest attack was still being dealt with, and there was so much else to be done Albus sighed tiredly. There was too much to do, not enough ways to do it, and most importantly, not enough _time_ to do it.

'_Ah, time,_' Albus thought wistfully. Time was a delicate mass of interwoven memories, hopes, and dreams- a precarious balance between what has been done and what is to come. Unfortunately, the balance of time these days seemed to be working against Albus, and try though he might, he could not find a way to stabilize it. Time was constantly playing tricks on him; it seemed to do that doing that more and more often as he got older. Albus closed his eyes briefly. He could not afford to be tricked now. Any trick could lead to the deaths of more innocent people.

Albus was jolted out of his dark musings by the sound of his fire blazing to life.

"Albus!" A frantic voice called out.

Albus turned and then quickly got up and lowered himself down before his fireplace. "Minerva, what is it?" he questioned, troubled by her obvious unease. His transfiguration professor was looking up at him from the grate, her eyes glassy and panicked.

"I have Longbottom here, in my office. They found Harry, Albus, and they say he's hurt," Minerva said hurriedly.

Albus stood up before speaking, every bit of him awake and alert.

"Where is he?"

"He's locked in the dormitory bathroom in the Tower, and apparently the boys can't get the door to unlock," she replied, her face getting more and more anxious as the seconds rolled by.

"Fire call Madame Pomfrey now, Minerva, and then go to him as quickly as you can. I will be there shortly," he told her, already reaching for a handful of floo powder. Minerva did not even stay to give him an answer, and her head quickly disappeared from his fireplace.

Albus threw his floo powder into the grate, walked into the blazing emerald flames, _so much like Harry's eyes_, and said firmly, "Marauder's Rooms!"

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Sirius was slouched down on the couch in front of his fireplace, lost in thought. He stared as the fire slowly crackled and burned, turning the wood a glowing red before eating it away piece by piece. Harry had disappeared after their…confrontation, but Dumbledore had assured him that Harry could not have left the castle grounds without several different alarms going off. That did not keep Sirius from worrying; the castle was big enough so that if Harry didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. And the thought of Harry being left alone the way he was…terrified Sirius.

"_Harry,"_ he whispered to himself, his heart clenching painfully. His precious godson…his Harry… he was so sick. Harry's face flashed into his mind: the sickly pallor of his skin, the dark circles under his eyes, the angular cheek bones accented even more by his unneeded weight loss. And suddenly Sirius realized that Harry wasn't just sick- he was broken. Sirius quickly got to his feet. Something was happening to his godson. He could feel it.

"Remus?" he said, looking around for his friend. Sirius frowned when he realized that Remus wasn't in the common room at his desk, where Sirius had thought he'd been. He strode across the room and over to Remus' bedroom door and knocked softly.

"Remus?" he asked, "Are you in there?"

When he got no response, he opened the door. He peered inside, only to find it empty. He closed the door again, puzzled. "Where the bloody hell did he go?"

And then the front door to their rooms banged shut, and Sirius swore loudly as he jumped around and grabbed for his wand.

A mere second later Remus was looking mildly down at the wand that was currently pointed at his chest.

"Hello to you too, Sirius," he said with a slight chuckle.

"Remus!" Sirius exclaimed, lowering his wand instantly. He then blushed slightly and mumbled, "Sorry. You scared me."

"Yes, I gathered," Remus replied. "What have you been doing?"

"Me?" Sirius asked incredulously, "What about you? Where have you been?"

"I was in the Defense room setting up the tank for the grindylows. Third years are starting them tomorrow, remember?"

Sirius ignored the question. "How did you get out? Did you go through the door?"

Remus raised his eyebrows at him and said dryly, "No, I used the window."

When Sirius merely blinked at him, a small smile turned up the corners of Remus' mouth and he said, "Of course I used the door, Sirius." He made to say something else, but then frowned, his expression quickly shifting from affectionate disbelief to concern. "You didn't notice me walk through here? I even told you I was leaving."

"What?" Sirius asked, confused. "No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. I told you I was leaving, and you responded," Remus replied.

"I responded," Sirius stated flatly.

"Well, sort of," Remus conceded. "You grunted at me. But coming from you, that counts as a response."

They shared a quick smile, but their faces slipped almost immediately back into the all too familiar expressions of worry and anxiousness.

Remus sank down into an armchair and motioned for Sirius to sit as well. Sirius resumed his previous position on the couch, letting his long legs sprawl out carelessly in front of him. Remus looked at him, surveying his friend with a knowing eye. To anyone else in the world, it would look as though Sirius was merely relaxing in front of the fire. But Remus knew that Sirius' would-be-casual demeanor signified a greater worry than he was even able to express. Remus shook his head slightly in awe. It was a trait that Sirius had picked up during his childhood- a lesson that had been beaten into his body so many times that it had stayed with him to this day. Black family rule number one: Never show emotion. Sirius had fallen victim to this rule, and somehow, Harry had as well.

Remus sighed, still looking at his long time friend. Sirius and Harry were so similar, so much more so than they even realized.

Sirius looked up, feeling Remus' gaze on him. "What?" he questioned, his voice low. Intense blue eyes were staring at Remus from under dark fringe, and Remus had to admit he felt slightly proud that he was one of the only people in the world who was able to meet that gaze dead on and hold it.

"You need each other," Remus stated quietly.

Sirius didn't have to ask who Remus was referring to. "I know," he replied.

There were a few moments of silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

Then Sirius' voice said softly, "Something is happening to him, Remus. I can feel it."

Remus and Sirius locked eyes for a brief moment before they were both leaping to their feet and pulling out their wands as the fire roared suddenly to life.

Remus relaxed as he recognized Professor Dumbledore, and Sirius' shoulders drooped dejectedly as he realized that that was the second time in 10 minutes that he had thought an enemy was storming his rooms.

"We're getting paranoid," Remus murmured next to him.

Sirius clapped him on the back and shot back, "Constant vigilance, Remus."

Remus' chuckle was interrupted by Dumbledore's unusually tight voice.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he said, his voice weary.

"Evening, Albus," Remus replied, nudging Sirius slightly in the ribs.

"Yes, yes, good evening, Albus," Sirius said, waving a hand impatiently before saying, "There's something wrong with Harry, I can feel it."

Dumbledore lowered his head and surveyed Sirius from over his half-moon spectacles. "What do you mean you can 'feel' it, Mr. Black?"

Sirius sighed. "I mean I can _feel_ it, Albus. I'm telling you something is wrong with him. Just trust me."

"As a matter of fact, Sirius, I do trust you, and there is something wrong with Harry," Dumbledore replied.

"WHAT?" Sirius said loudly. "How do you know? Where is he? What's the matter?"

Albus held up a hand to quell Sirius' questions and replied, "Apparently the boys found him. Neville Longbottom informed Minerva, who relayed the message to me, and now, I am telling you. It seems as though Harry is hurt, locked in the boys' bathroom, and none of the others have been able to get the door open. Which is why we are going there, right now."

Sirius was the first one out the door, and then he was racing through the empty hallways, desperate to get to his godson as fast as he could. His heart was pounding inside his ribcage, which felt as though it had constricted to half its size. Panic was setting in as he thought about Harry, hurt, behind a locked door. Did he lock himself in there, or did someone else lock him in? How did he get hurt? Did someone attack him? Or…oh, _God_, did he hurt himself?

'_Please,'_ Sirius silently begged, _'Please, let him be alright.'_

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When Neville had gone shooting through the Common Room and out the portrait hole faster than she'd ever seen him run in his entire life, Hermione started feeling nervous. Her brain quickly formed all sorts of horrible reasons that would ignite that sort of reaction from Neville, but Ginny spoke before she could voice any of them.

"I've never seen Neville do anything but trip over his own feet at the mere thought of running. Why did he suddenly look like the best athlete at Hogwarts?" she questioned. Her words were teasing, but her voice was low and worried.

Hermione turned her gaze on her friend, her eyes dark. "I can come up with several reasons, Ginny, and none of them are pleasant."

There was a slight silence for a moment before both of them spoke at the same time.

"I suppose we should just go up and check--"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to be sure all limbs are still in tact up there--"

They broke off and looked at one another, each trying to force a smile on their faces, both failing.

Hermione took a deep breath before speaking again. "Let's just go up. I'm sure everything is fine."

Ginny nodded and said, "Yeah, allright."

They had both just risen to their feet and had started to move towards the stairway when the portrait hole suddenly burst open again and Madam Pomfrey went flying up the stairs, Professor McGonagall and Neville following hotly in pursuit. Hermione and Ginny were left standing, stunned, in the middle of the common room, before they simultaneously burst into action and raced up the stairs after their teachers. As they got closer to the boys' dormitory, voices could suddenly be heard yelling at one another.

"Get out of my way, Mr. Weasley!"

"No! I have to get him out!"

Hermione picked up her pace as a loud banging noise went reverberating down the stairwell. When she finally went sprinting through the doorway, she stopped suddenly as all the air went rushing from her body. She felt as though someone was literally tearing her heart in two as she witnessed the scene before her. Ron was pounding his fist against the bathroom door, yelling for Harry and struggling against anyone who tried to pry him away from the door.

"Mr. Weasley! I will open the door if you move out of the way!" McGonagall was saying frantically as Ron continued to pound and Madam Pomfrey tried to yank him away from the bathroom door.

Ron shrugged her off viciously and said, "No, no, it won't open. I tried already. I just have to get him out and then everything will be fine. I always get him out of these situations, we've been doing it since we were eleven. Me and Harry and Hermione… where's Hermione? Someone get her. He'll be okay, you'll see. HARRY! LET ME IN!" Ron was mumbling, speaking in a quick, panicked voice.

As soon as Ron mentioned Hermione, McGonagall spun around and made to call for her, but abruptly found herself face to face with two anxious girls. She blinked rapidly at their sudden presence before shaking her head slightly and saying, "Ms. Granger, please get Mr. Weasley under control! We can't help Harry unless he's out of the way."

"I—oh, okay, I just—where's Harry? Behind the door? Why? I don't understand—"

"Hermione! Please, just get Ron," Ginny cut in.

"What? Oh, oh yes, of course," Hermione replied, dazed. This couldn't be happening. Harry wasn't… he wasn't actually hurt. Well, he got hurt all the time, but he…he always pulled through…

She moved forward towards the door and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. He brushed her off and continued banging on the door, speaking frantically under his breath.

"Ron!" Hermione said loudly, grabbing hold of his arm with both of her hands to stop his banging. "Ron, it's me! Stop! Professor McGonagall will get him out."

He turned to her, relief evident on his face. "Hermione! You're finally here, good. We have to get Harry out, we always do…"

Hermione shook her head. "No, Ron, we can't help him this time. Let the Professors help him."

"No!" Ron said, loudly. "We always help him! We--"

He was cut off by a sudden flurry of motion as three more people entered the room, and Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all turned to look at the new entrances. Professor Dumbledore had just swept into the room, along with Professor Lupin and…

"No," Ginny whispered.

It couldn't be. It could not be _Sirius_, running across the dormitory towards the bathroom door. Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, keeping them closed and listening to the sounds around her, waiting for someone else to greet the newcomer and prove that he was not Harry's dead godfather. But Ginny's stomach dropped as a shocked silence reigned momentarily over the room, and a few feet away from her she could hear Ron suck in a shocked breath.

And then, when the man spoke, she _knew_. She knew it was Sirius…alive.

"Move out of the way, Ron," Sirius said quietly, urgently.

Ginny quickly opened her eyes to see Ron staring up at him with wide blue eyes, confusion and disbelief written in little lines all over his face. With a small, shocked noise, Ron stepped aside to stand next to Hermione, who had let go of his arm and moved a few steps away from the door when Sirius had entered the room.

As soon as the door was vacated, Sirius whipped out his wand and whispered, "_Alohamora_!"

He then tried the doorknob and growled lowly in his throat when it wouldn't open.

"They've tried that already, it doesn't work," McGonagall said in an uncharacteristically vulnerable voice.  
"Yes, I gathered," Sirius snapped back. He then pointed his wand at the door again. "_Patefacio_!" he said forcefully. He then tried the door again, and when it wouldn't open, he froze, his knuckles white as he clenched the doorknob. He gritted his teeth and bit out, "_Perdo Vires_!" When the door still wouldn't open, Sirius threw his weight against the door and yelled, "OPEN THE FUCK UP!"

Remus stepped forward then and started speaking, "Sirius--"

"No, Remus. If I can't unlock the door, I'll bloody well knock it down!" Sirius said vehemently.

"You'll knock it down right on top of Harry!" Remus bit out through clenched teeth.

"What?" Sirius said in exasperation, glancing at Remus quickly over his shoulder. "No I won't! How do you know?"

Remus dropped his eyes to the floor and said tightly, "Look down, Sirius."

Sirius paled as he realized that he was standing in the middle of a dark red puddle- a puddle that was growing larger even as he stared at it. Sirius took a shocked step backwards, so that he was still standing in front of the door but was no longer in a pool of blood.

"Oh, God…" he whispered, "Please, no." There was a small silence as everyone in the room stood rooted to the spot, waiting….waiting…waiting for something to happen. And then suddenly there was a loud _BANG!_ and a crunching noise as Sirius was yet again throwing himself against the door, yelling.

Dumbledore stepped forward, his wand in hand, but Remus lost his patience before Dumbledore had the opportunity to do anything.

"Oh, _get out of my way_!" he snarled viciously, stepping forward and pushing Sirius to the side. He then pointed his wand at the door and stated clearly, "_Evanesco_!"

The door promptly vanished from view, leaving Sirius and Ron gaping at the now open doorway. Remus blew out a breath through his nose and muttered, "Honestly," under his breath. But any other words he was about to say died away on his lips as he caught sight of Harry.

He was curled up in a ball, shirtless and tucked into the corner between the wall and what used to be the door. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his left arm was laid across them, supporting his head. His face was hidden from view, and his other arm was by his side, resting with his palm up as though it had fallen unconsciously from its spot on his knees. And there was blood…there was blood everywhere… coming from everywhere. There was a large gash across Harry's right wrist, which was spilling the blood that had seeped under the door- the puddle that was still creeping outwards, crawling towards the others who were staring at him in horror. Cuts of all shapes and sizes peppered his shoulders, arms, and torso, leaking trails of blood down his body. Remus' nose crinkled as he was hit with the strong, metallic smell, and he struggled to keep his stomach and check. There was just so much blood, the whole bathroom seemed tinted red, like it was shining, _shimmering_… how was it doing that?

Sirius made a strangled noise and darted forward, meaning to run through the door to Harry's side but Dumbledore and Hermione simultaneously shouted, "Don't!"

Sirius ignored them and rushed into the bathroom, but he froze when his feet made a loud cracking noise as he stepped on the bathroom floor. He paused for a moment before looking down, and his mouth dropped open as he saw that he was standing on shards of… himself. Sirius shook his head slightly before looking closer, and he realized that he was looking down into a mirror.

"Mirror?" he murmured aloud, his voice confused. His head then snapped up and he turned abruptly to where the large bathroom mirror was over the sinks…or rather, what used to be the mirror. All he saw now were fragments of broken glass. Bits and pieces were missing from the wall, lying where they had fallen across the counter and floor. Cracks took on the appearance of a spider web as they ran through the mirror that was still left on the wall, spiraling outwards from a large circle of intricate breaks and cracks that were roughly level with Sirius' shoulder. Sirius stepped forward slowly and reached out a hand, tracing the broken circle with his fingertips, letting them slide into the dip in the center of the circle. Tiny shards fell at the light contact of Sirius' hand and connected with the counter with a small tinkling noise.

Sirius then turned around and looked at the surreal image in front of him. Seven people, frozen and crowded outside the bathroom door. Light reflecting off millions of pieces of glass, making it look like the room had been showered in diamonds. Ribbons of red painting across every surface, its effect magnified by the mirror all around, making the entire scene look washed in the same deadly color. And in the middle of it all, was Harry- _his Harry_- huddled and broken and defeated. And suddenly all the diamonds and ribbons in the world didn't matter as Sirius finally took Harry's unconscious form in his arms, and Sirius' tears were lost in the streams of Harry's blood, and Sirius thought that maybe- just maybe- if he cried enough, he could wash away all of Harry's blood and pain.

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"Sirius, you need to let him go now."

"No! I'm not leaving him, not again… never again."

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"What should we do?"

"We should stay here, that's what."

"We _can't_. You know I want to, Ron, really, but… we'll just be in the way if we stay here. Maybe… maybe we should go back to the dormitory."

"No. That's where this happened. I can't go back there. What if he wakes up, Hermione, and we're not here?"

"We're always here for him. We always have been."

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"Remus? Since Sirius is… not up to working, perhaps you should go back to teaching today. The fourth years are due this morning, and those grindylows need looking after. Am I correct?"

"You are correct, but I don't give a damn. Stop bloody well treating me like I don't care about him just as much as Sirius does. I do."

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"Miss Weasley, why are you here instead of in class?"

"I can't concentrate. Not with him here. Not like this."

"Well, at least make yourself useful. Hold his head up for me while I give him this, dear."

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"Oh, Harry. Please wake up. We need you."

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"What's happening with him? Why isn't he waking up?"

"He lost a lot of blood, Mr. Black… too much blood. And he's not well, on top of that. His body is worn out, and I… I've done everything I can."

"Well get an expert in here! Get anyone! He's been unconscious for four days, that's not _normal_! I'll do anything you want, but you bloody well fix him!"

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It had been four days. Four exhausting, excruciating days and Harry was still unconscious. When he had first been rushed to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had set him up in a bed and had disappeared with him behind a curtain, keeping the others waiting anxiously as various potion bottles flew off of shelves and across the room and then behind the curtain. When she had emerged almost an hour later, she had streaks of blood across her face and hands and she looked frazzled, but she had announced that Harry was no longer in mortal peril. After twenty-four hours, she had said that Harry should be waking up soon.

…But Harry didn't wake up. He didn't wake up on the second day, or the third day, and now it was the very end of the fourth day. In about an hour's time, it would be the fifth day, and Harry still showed no signs of waking. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall had both been in and out of the Hospital wing, sometimes accompanied by Hagrid or Neville. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny spent all of their free time in the hospital wing, sometimes together and sometimes by themselves. Remus spent almost all of his time in the hospital wing, leaving only to sleep at night and to teach the occasional class before returning again.

Sirius, however, had moved into the hospital wing. His permanent residence was now the chair that sat beside his godson's bed. Even though the chair was hard and uncomfortable, Sirius never left it unless he was forced to. Now, it was nearing midnight, and the only sound in the hospital wing was Harry's slow, even breathing. Sirius had his head down, resting on the bed beside Harry, and one of his hands was wrapped loosely around Harry's fingers.

Sirius' eyes were drooping shut, and the world was becoming hazy at the edges. He hadn't slept in so long… and he was so _tired_… but he didn't want to be asleep when Harry finally woke up. '_He **will** wake up_,' Sirius told himself, '_He has to_.'

Sirius closed his eyes as he whispered, "Please wake up, Harry."

He listened for a moment, almost expecting to hear some sort of response from Harry. When he got none, Sirius sighed and rubbed his thumb lightly over the back of Harry's hand. He continued tracing light circles with his thumb, at once trying to lure Harry back into consciousness and draw comfort for himself in the fact that even though the hand wasn't moving, the pulse beneath the skin of that hand and wrist _was_ moving.

Sirius sighed again and shifted slightly, bringing his head closer to Harry's hand so that they were almost touching. Sirius smiled slightly. In the dead of night, when all was quiet and he was hovering on the brink between sleep and wakefulness, he could almost pretend that Harry was just asleep, not unconscious. He could almost pretend that under the light patterns of his thumb, Harry's hand was moving. God, it felt so _real_… when had he become this good at pretending? Sirius didn't know, but he wasn't entirely sure it was healthy… and then something brushed his nose and his eyes snapped open and he jumped up, letting out a small yelp of shock.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed breathlessly, one hand over his heart. "What…?" He looked around him, dazed and confused and half asleep as he tried to decipher what had just touched his nose. He looked around him; there was no one else in the hospital wing, no random pets or flying objects belonging to the stray student… in the soft, dim light of the torches that were barely flickering on the walls, Sirius could see nothing out of the ordinary.

"I am absolutely losing it," he murmured, plopping back down into his chair and rubbing his eyes. When he opened them again and focused them back on Harry, his mouth dropped open and formed a small 'o' shape as he found himself staring into bottomless pools of emerald green.

"_Harry_," he breathed.

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A/N: Chapter 16! I hope you all enjoyed it, please review! I promise the next chapter will be up quicker.

Xoxo,

Willow Ann


	17. Sneaky Slytherin? Me?

A/N: Hello everyone! Although I'm aware that author's notes are technically not allowed, I feel I have to say something because I've become aware of an extremely unfortunate technical difficulty people are experiencing. I've discovered (thanks to Kristen and Von) that there's been a problem with reviewing … only I've no idea how to fix it. People are being told that they literally can't review because they already HAVE, but in reality they haven't. If any of you know how to fix this problem, I'd greatly appreciate it if you could give me tips on how to fix it.

In the meantime, for those of you who couldn't review Chapter 16, you can submit a review for it here- please do! Hopefully it works. You can also PM or email me whatever suits you. I absolutely adore feedback- I live for it, actually, which is why this reviewing problem is actually really terrible. So, if you read Chapter 16, please let me know what you thought! I hope you liked it!

And if you can help me with the tech problem, _please_ let me know. Thanks!

Xoxo,

Willow Ann


	18. Chapter 17

A/N: Hello everyone! I live. Once again, I'm sorry for the long wait for this chapter. No excuses. Special thanks and hugs to my beta Aerohead1980, who is spectacular. I hope you all enjoy the chapter, please review at the end. Thanks!

Chapter 17

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Harry blinked at him slowly for a moment, his eyes slightly unfocused. Sirius reached one arm out and picked up Harry's glasses before placing them onto his face carefully. Harry's gaze was now pinned on him, yet Harry was not looking into Sirius' eyes. Instead, his eyes were roaming down Sirius' body and a worried expression was inching its way onto Harry's features.

"What happened?" Harry whispered, trying to sit up.

"No, Harry, lay back down," Sirius said softly, leaning forward and pushing Harry back onto the pillows gently. "You had a slight…accident with the bathroom mirror--"

"No," Harry interrupted, "I meant what happened to you. Your arm."

Sirius started slightly before looking down at his left arm, which was being held to his chest by a sling. "Oh, I… I dislocated my shoulder. It's fine, really, Poppy had it fixed days ago, but I kept trying to move it around and she got angry with me. She put this …_thing_ on, it tightens whenever I try to move my arm… sort of scary, actually…" Sirius realized he was rambling and he trailed off slowly, looking down into his lap. He looked up again, however, when Harry spoke.

"How did you manage that?" he asked, his voice still quiet.

Sirius paused, and in the silence that stretched between them Sirius sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening that this conversation with Harry would go better than the last one.

"Trying to get to you," Sirius murmured.

Harry was momentarily stunned before his brain went into overdrive. His head hurt, his shoulders hurt, his arms hurt, his back hurt, his wrist hurt, and oh..._God_, his heart hurt. But more than any of the pain, the feeling that was overwhelming him was guilt. That one, ever-present feeling was washing over him, stealing away his breath and threatening to drown him with pain. It had happened again. Sirius had been hurt because of him.

And then Harry wasn't angry at Sirius anymore. He wasn't mad at him for lying, he wasn't mad at him for going to the press… he wasn't mad… he was _desperate_ for Sirius to forgive him. But how could he? Every time Sirius was near him, he got hurt. Harry knew he was dangerous, knew that he hurt people, but '_Oh, please_,' he thought, absolutely terrified that Sirius would hate him, '_please, let him want me.'_

Harry brought his agonized eyes up to meet Sirius' own anxious gaze, and his voice broke as he murmured, "I'm sorry, Sirius…I'm so sorry." He brought a hand up to cover his face and eyes, trying to hide from the rejection he knew was about to come. He was startled when two warm hands wrapped around his own and pulled it away from his face. Harry turned his head away, unable to look at Sirius.

"Don't apologize," Sirius whispered. The hand that Sirius was holding was trembling slightly. Harry tried to tug his hand away, but Sirius just tightened his grip on it and shook his head. "No, I won't let you do that. I won't let you pull away from me."

The only sound in the room was their breathing, or rather, Harry's breathing. Harry's breaths were ragged and uneven as he fought for control. The emotions that he had kept so tightly locked away since June were boiling right under the surface, ready to come spilling out all at once at the slightest provocation. Sirius, on the other hand, was having trouble remembering to breathe at all. Hope was suffocating him, and he was holding his breathe as tightly and as desperately as he was holding on to Harry's hand.

"Harry, look at me," Sirius said softly. When Harry didn't move, Sirius reached out one hand and placed it on Harry's face, turning it slowly until they were looking at each other. Blue eyes met exhausted green ones, and in that moment Harry felt all of his walls tremble and then collapse completely. He closed his eyes, trying to hide behind something- _anything_- so he wouldn't have to see the moment when Sirius' eyes turned cold, hard… and unforgiving. He heard Sirius take in a breath, felt the hand on his cheek tremble ever so slightly, and he braced himself for the harsh words he knew were about to come.

"I love you," Sirius' voice stated gently. Harry's eyes snapped open and his breath caught in his throat as he looked at Sirius incredulously. He couldn't have heard right. No, Sirius couldn't possibly love him, after everything they had been through…could he? A thin, single thread of hope started to weave its way into Harry's heart, and he tried desperately to squash it. Harry knew that he couldn't lose Sirius again, knew that he wouldn't be able to handle it if this turned out to be a mistake.

Harry wasn't saying anything, and he was perfectly still, but Sirius could see the emotions churning furiously in his eyes. Sirius could see the disbelief, the hesitancy… the hope. And seeing the hope in Harry's eyes made Sirius believe that yes, they could get through this. He had made wrong decisions in the past, and Merlin knew they had had colossal consequences, but he wouldn't do that anymore. He wouldn't leave Harry alone ever again. Sirius sucked in a breath as he tried to keep his emotions in check, but he couldn't. Sirius knew there were a million things that he couldn't do… but he could latch on to that timid hope in Harry's eyes and feed it, nurture it, love it- love _Harry_- until Harry was whole again. But before he could do that, he needed Harry to forgive him.

"I love you," Sirius said again. His voice was quiet and confident, unwavering as he voiced the one truth he knew both he and Harry could always rely on. Harry closed his eyes tightly, but tears still managed to find their way out from underneath his eyelids and create tiny crystal trails down his face. "You didn't believe me the last time I told you, but you have to believe me now. I'll do whatever it takes to convince you, Harry, but I need you to know that. I need you to know that I love you more than anyone in the entire world, and I'm so sorry." Sirius' voice started to break as he continued. "I'm so sorry for…for lying to you, for not telling you I was back, for the article… for everything. I never meant for any of it to hurt you. I just want you to be happy and I'm…I'm so sorry."

Harry's eyes had opened and were looking at him carefully, timidly, through a rippling veil of tears; Sirius smiled shakily at him and nodded reassuringly, answering all of Harry's unspoken questions. Yes, it's okay. Yes, we'll be fine. Yes, I'll take care of you now. Yes, I'm so sorry. _Yes, I love you._ Sirius brushed the backs of his fingers across Harry's cheek, willing the doubt in Harry's eyes to go away.

Harry was shaking slightly all over as adrenaline raced throughout his body and pounded against his heart, willing him to give Sirius the same forgiveness that he himself was so desperately seeking. How had things gone so terribly wrong? Harry continued to look at Sirius silently, and within moments he wasn't the only one with tear stained cheeks. He reached up a hand and brushed one finger across Sirius' cheek, catching the tears that had been about to fall. And then he knew that it didn't matter how things had gone so terribly wrong because now- right now- they were both here, and they had forgiven _each other_, and now…now it was time to rebuild what had been broken in the time that had passed. Harry paused for a moment before taking in a deep breath. He then offered Sirius a small smile and murmured, "I missed you."

Sirius let out a breath- a small, disbelieving sound before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Harry's forehead. He then pulled back and brushed Harry's ever messy hair away from his face, smiling at him tentatively. He took a few breaths, trying to steady himself. _'Please, let this be real,'_ he silently begged. But when he felt Harry's fingers squeeze his hand assuredly, he knew… he knew that after so many painful months, this was finally real.

"I missed you too," Sirius breathed in awe. Harry was looking at him serenely, his expression more peaceful than it had been in weeks. And for the first time since Sirius had seen him again, he was showing traces of the real Harry that had been hiding away since June. It wasn't much, just a faint glimmer in those emerald orbs that showed Sirius, more than anything, that everything was going to be okay. But then suddenly that glimmer went out again, and worry was starting to seep back into Harry's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.

"No, no, don't be. You have nothing to be sorry for," Sirius replied, bringing Harry's hand up to his lips and kissing the back of it, trying to keep Harry out of the depths of his mind.

"I just—I, I cant--" Harry broke off, and Sirius could feel his body tense with worry.

Sirius reached forward and cupped Harry's face in his hand, dragging his thumb along Harry's cheekbone. "What happened, Harry? God, you scared me- There was so much blood, I thought I had lost you--"

Harry was shaking his head. "No, I- nothing happened. I didn't try to…I mean, I- I would never… it was an accident."

Sirius looked down at him, surprised. "Oh, Harry, I know you wouldn't …try to kill yourself." Harry was looking up at him, his eyes pleading with him to understand. Sirius stroked Harry's face, promising him that he believed him. "I know you wouldn't."

Harry looked relieved, and Sirius saw his body slump a little deeper into the bed.

"I'm so exhausted, Sirius," Harry whispered, closing his eyes. "I'm so tired."

Sirius pulled the blankets higher up around Harry and murmured, "Go to sleep then, Harry."

Harry mumbled in consent, already falling asleep, but he opened his eyes again mere moments later and looked at Sirius hesitantly.

"You…you'll be here, when I wake up, right?" he asked, his voice small.

Sirius smiled and settled down further into his chair, happier than he had ever been in his entire life. "Absolutely," he responded.

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Hours later, Sirius woke up to the sound of three voices arguing quietly with each other.

"—don't disturb him, Ronald, he's sleeping!" Hermione chastised.

"He's always sleeping," Ron grumbled, obviously unhappy. "It's downright weird without him. Why won't he wake up?"

"He won't wake up, Ron, because he's bloody _unconscious_," said a slightly bitter voice to Sirius' left.

Silence followed this statement before Hermione spoke again.

"We all miss him, Ginny," she stated softly.

Sirius opened his eyes to look at the girl next to him. She was staring down at the ground, her tear-filled eyes enhanced by the dark circles underneath them. A hard, heartbroken look flitted across her face and she murmured, "Damn it, Harry, open your eyes."

"He did," Sirius spoke up, unable to watch her agonize any longer.

Three heads shot up to look at him as he rubbed his eyes and then stood up, stretching his long frame and smiling contentedly when he heard several of his joints pop back into place.

"He woke up?" Ginny asked. "When?"

"Last night," Sirius replied, gazing down at his godson. Harry was still sound asleep, but it seemed healthier than before- more alive.

"Did he say anything? How is he?" Hermione asked. "Oh, I do hope he's alright, he must have been terribly confused."

"He's going to be fine, Hermione," Sirius said, looking at her fondly. He then studied her face intently before shifting his gaze over to Ron. Sirius sighed as he realized that Ginny wasn't the only one who had circles under her eyes; all three of them looked worn to the bone, their features pinched with tension.

"I know you've been worried," he murmured gently. He sat down and took Harry's hand in his again, watching his godson's slumbering face. "Merlin knows I have been too. But he's okay now, I promise."

There was a slight pause after his words before Hermione's voice broke through the silence quietly.

"Why do you keep touching him?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked her, his voice wary as his fingers tightened defensively around Harry's. Was someone else going to try and tear them apart? Sirius was suddenly nervous as he absorbed the fact that Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were nearly as protective of Harry as he was. They were likely furious with him, but up until now all of his attention had gone into worrying over Harry, not worrying how his friends would react to finding out he was alive. His shoulders tensed slightly in apprehension.

Hermione regarded him with keen, knowing eyes, picking up on his nervousness immediately but keeping her tone neutral and controlled. "I mean that every time I'm here, you're touching Harry in some way. You never used to do that."

Sirius studied her quietly for a moment, once again marveling at the subtle observations she always seemed to take note of.

"You don't miss a thing, do you?" he murmured softly before looking down at the hand that he was clasping gently in his own. "I—I just… like to be sure that he's still here with me."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and her voice hardened just slightly as she said, "You like to make sure that _he_ is still here? _He_ is not the one that left _you_ all alone."

Two other voices joined Sirius' as they uttered cries of indignation and protest, but Sirius raised his voice above Ron's and Ginny's.

"I didn't leave him all alone! He was guarded by the Order every second of the day over the summer, and he has you three," Sirius exclaimed, feebly dodging her real intentions.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Hermione snapped back.

Sirius hung his head in defeat. "I know," he murmured.

"He needed you," Hermione bit out accusingly.

"I know," he whispered.

"He _still_ needs you," Hermione emphasized.

"Hermione, **_I know_**," Sirius said back, trying to communicate in that one sentence that yes- he knew Harry needed him and yes- he knew that he had hurt his godson terribly and yes- if he could take it back and make everything better, he would- oh god, he would- but more than anything, he knew that he was never going to let anything get in between him and Harry ever again.

Sirius struggled as he tried to find a way to voice his thoughts. "I've made terrible mistakes in my life," he whispered, "…ones that have destroyed everything I once lived for. I've let Harry go before… _twice_, and this time I nearly lost him." Sirius looked up and met Hermione's eyes dead on as he said resolutely, "I'm never going to let him go again. Ever."

Hermione regarded Sirius sternly then, her brown eyes calculating and measuring. She took in Sirius' countenance slowly, looking at him in silence for a long moment. Finally, her gaze softened and she gave a small, relieved sigh. "I'm glad you have each other," she said finally, quietly.

Sirius smiled slightly at her, relieved that she seemed to have forgiven him so readily. He then looked over at Ron and Ginny, trying to gage their reactions as well. They had looked slightly anxious when Hermione had started speaking, but neither had attempted to stop her. Sirius knew that they agreed with her, but looking at them now he tried to read their emotions individually. Both were slightly uncomfortable, their apprehension showing plainly. Ron, however, looked up and offered him a crooked grin before turning away again quickly, picking at a thread on his sleeve awkwardly as the tips of his ears turned red. Sirius felt a small smile curl his lips upward at how completely Ron-like this gesture was before turning his gaze to Ginny. She was determinedly looking at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. Sirius puzzled over her for a moment. If what he suspected of Harry and Ginny was actually true, then Ginny was a different matter entirely, Sirius supposed. Harry might have refused to talk to him for the past few weeks, but that hadn't stopped Sirius from studying him. And as thick as he could be sometimes, he hadn't missed the slow companionship that had sprung up between Ginny and his godson, the way they had gradually grown closer, the way Harry's face would relax, just the tiniest bit, whenever Ginny was around. And for that, Sirius was grateful to her. He would hear from her more, he was sure, but she didn't seem to be readying herself for a fight and for right now, that was enough.

Sirius felt his shoulders slump in relief, and he hung his head tiredly as he took a deep, soothing breath. Hermione was protective of Harry in a way that reminded Sirius very much of Molly Weasley, and Ron had shown a new fervor in his loyalty to Harry this year that had always before been blocked, just the smallest amount, by jealousy. And Ginny… Sirius looked over at Ginny, regarding her carefully. Ginny was protective and loyal to Harry in an entirely different way now. Ginny shifted her gaze onto him suddenly and caught the calculating look he was sending her. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him, but he just gave her a small grin before winking conspiratorially at her and turning back to look at Harry. He was still sleeping soundly, still working away the exhaustion that seemed to have sunken into his bones.

The silence was broken by Hermione rising from her chair. "It's nearly time for class."

She picked her bag up from the floor and hesitated slightly before rushing over to Sirius and bending before him, enveloping him in tight hug before quickly standing again and making her way towards the door. Sirius turned his head to follow her progress, slightly stunned, but she never looked back.

"Ron, Ginny?" She asked over her shoulder. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yeah," they answered, simultaneously.

They both rose then, and Ginny picked up her bag and said to Sirius quietly, "Tell him I'll be back later, yeah?"

"Absolutely," he replied.

And then she was walking away in Hermione's wake and silently leaving the Hospital Wing. Ron was still standing by his chair, taking an extraordinary amount of time to gather his things together. He fiddled for a moment with the clasp on his bag before slinging it over one shoulder and turning to Sirius awkwardly.

He then let out a small, relieved laugh and muttered, "Well, I'm glad _that's_ over."

Sirius chuckled as well and said, "Me too, mate, me too."

There was a small pause again before Ron broke it.

"I am glad you're back, you know," he said suddenly. "Harry is too, I'm sure. He'll be… well… I don't know. He'll be okay again, I think, with you back."

Sirius gazed at Ron hopefully and said, "You really think so?"

Ron looked flustered and his cheeks were slowly tinting red, but he responded just the same. "Yeah… Yeah, I do. I just--" Ron stopped abruptly before blowing out his breath in a large woosh, seemingly gathering his resolve. "Look, I don't really think you know exactly what…your death… did to him. Some part of him disappeared when you did… the part that made him, made him so _Harry_ just stopped…existing. And, well, I'm hoping that your being back will bring that part of him back also. I— Just, just don't… Don't hurt him again, yeah?"

Ron finished and gazed at him seriously, his gaze more somber than Sirius had ever seen it.

"I won't, Ron," Sirius replied firmly. He stood up and offered his hand to Ron. "You have my word."

Ron reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Good. I'll hold you to that, you know."

Sirius grinned at him. "I wouldn't expect any less from you."

Ron released his hand and shot him a smile as he started walking backwards towards the doors. "Chess later, yeah?"

"Only if you're prepared to lose!" Sirius teased gently.

"In your dreams, Black!" Ron called playfully before giving a slight wave and walking out the door.

Sirius laughed quietly and shook his head, sitting back down in his chair and shifting it closer to Harry's bed. He then leaned his elbows on his knees and placed his head in his hands, watching his godson's slumbering face. Sirius didn't know how long he sat there, content to just be near Harry and know that when those green eyes opened and looked at him, they wouldn't be filled with anguish and betrayal.

Eventually Sirius settled into grading some of the papers that he had slowly accumulated and placed on Harry's bedside table. Although he hadn't been teaching while Harry had been in the hospital wing, he hadn't wanted to leave Remus all alone with the mounds of paperwork they inevitably ended up with. So he sat, immersed in the second years' essays when the quiet of the Hospital Wing was interrupted by a low grumbling noise. Startled, Sirius looked down at his stomach and after a quick analysis he concluded that no, he wasn't really that hungry, so that only left…

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed, setting the essays down again on the night stand and leaning forward eagerly. "How do you feel?"

"Good morning," Harry murmured sleepily, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He winced slightly at the pressure it placed on his bandaged wrist and Sirius immediately reached out to help him up, but Harry waved away his fretting hands. "I feel fine. Hungry. What time is it?"

"Time for a good meal for you, I think," Sirius replied, inwardly relieved that Harry was showing signs of interest in food. He snapped his fingers once and a small house elf appeared, bowing low to the ground as it stood before them.

"How can I help sirs?" he asked in a small voice.

"Hello," Sirius said kindly, smiling at him. "Can we just have lunch for two, please?"

The small creature beamed at them and said, "Certainly, sirs!" And then disappeared with a tiny _pop!_

A few minutes later, both Sirius and Harry were working their way through a small feast that had arrived on a tray laden with foods of all assortments. Sirius' gaze flicked up every now and then, watching as Harry made his way steadily through his plate. Neither of them spoke as they ate, but the silence was comfortable and comforting, each of them relishing one another's presence. Sirius looked down at his own plate again, hiding a smile. Harry's appetite seemed to be coming back, and this improvement- this small victory- warmed Sirius' heart.

That warmth dwindled, however, as he realized that he had yet to tell Harry about his Occlumency lessons. Harry had just woken up, Sirius knew, but he felt the need to tell him about Dumbledore's plans as soon as possible. One thing he had learned with utter clarity was that he couldn't keep things from Harry, and he certainly did not want to. Sirius pushed his food around with his fork as his insecurities crept to the forefront of his mind. Sirius wanted to tell Harry, he didn't know why he was delaying it. It wasn't so terrible, was it? Sirius knew Harry had hated every moment of his lessons last year, but he suspected that that was largely in part of learning from Snape. Harry may not be thrilled to have to take Occlumency again, but he couldn't possibly be as bad as Snape. Sirius sighed quietly. There were many reasons… many excuses he came up with to explain his nervousness over telling Harry about the lessons. But underneath his justifications, Sirius knew his real fear. How was he possibly supposed to tell Harry that he would be shifting through his most intimate memories after he had just broken his trust so completely? Surely Harry wouldn't allow him to, of course he wouldn't.

Sirius had been so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed Harry's piercing gaze, and he jumped slightly when Harry spoke, startling him out of his daze.

"You're worried," Harry accused.

Sirius looked at him apprehensively before taking a breath and saying, "I am."

Harry put his fork down slowly and sat back before looking at him respectively, resignedly. Sirius regarded him for a moment before his eyes widened and his heart clenched; as much as he tried to hide it, Sirius could see that Harry was readying himself- bracing himself to hear what he expected to be yet another betrayal.

Sirius bent his head and murmured, "I hurt you badly once already, Harry, I'm not about to do it again."

He heard Harry release a small breath and when he looked up again Harry was slumped slightly and looking at him in a decidedly embarrassed manner.

"I know," Harry told him. "I know, I'm sorry, I just--"

"It's okay, Harry, I understand," Sirius interrupted. Harry gave him a small smile and nodded slightly, so Sirius continued hesitantly. "I just… have something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Harry inquired.

"Well, I was talking with Dumbledore a few days ago and... well... do you remember how you took Occlumency lessons last year?" Sirius stammered.

"How could I forget?" Harry asked bitterly.

"Yes, well…" Sirius trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"Oh, Merlin, I don't have to take them again do I?" Harry asked, dismayed. "Really, I'm good at it now- well, most of the time, anyway- and I absolutely refuse to let Snape go banging around inside my head like a bloody beater--"

"I think we may have come up with another solution," Sirius interrupted quickly, and then promptly shut his mouth shut tight.

Harry paused, catching his breath before saying, "Really? What is it?"

Sirius looked up and met Harry's curious gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but just then a new voice broke out across the hospital wing.

"Mr. Potter! You're awake!" Madam Pomfrey came bustling over in a hurry, her wand already out and flying in intricate patterns over Harry's body before either Harry or Sirius had a chance to register her arrival.

"Mr. Black! You should have come for me immediately as soon as he regained consciousness! Really now, that's just common sense…"

She was muttering to herself as she surveyed the small colors and shapes her wand was emitting over various parts of Harry's body. Harry found his gaze inexplicably drawn to the sparkling, colorful figures, and he had to admit they were sort of pretty. When one fizzed and crackled right in front of his face, however, Harry shook his head at the tickling feeling that invaded his nostrils and rubbed his hand across his nose.

"What are you doing?" he asked her. "I can't possibly need all these… things… I feel fine, really. Nothing happened."

"Oooh, don't you give me that, Harry Potter! You'll just stay right here until I say so. You gave us quite a scare, you did, but not to worry, I've gotten you all patched up. You'll be right as rain soon enough."

Harry flushed and ducked his head. "I didn't mean to scare anyone," he murmured.

"I know you did not, Harry, but I would like to find out just what exactly you did intend," said yet another new voice to Harry's left.

Harry looked up and started slightly as he saw Professor Dumbledore standing directly behind Sirius' chair. Sirius, apparently, had missed the Headmaster's quiet entrance as well, as he turned around quickly and jumped when suddenly had the purple moons of Dumbledore's robes a few inches from his face.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed.

"Hello, Harry," the professor replied, smiling at him warmly and surveying him over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, sir," Harry replied.

"I am glad to hear it," Dumbledore said as he conjured himself a magenta colored chair next to Sirius' and settled himself in it. He waited genially as Madam Pomfrey finished her examinations and thrust two potions into his hands.

"Drink those," she said sternly, "and I'll be back in a bit to change that bandage."

Harry nodded and said quietly, "Thanks."

"No need to thank me, Mr. Potter, that's what I'm here for," she said as she straightened Harry's bed sheets quickly before walking away briskly. Once he was sure that she was out of ear-shot, Dumbledore began to speak.

"I see you have eaten, I assume that you are well rested? Sirius has not left your side for a moment, you have been well taken care of," Dumbledore said after he had steepled his fingers.

Harry looked over at Sirius quickly and gave him a soft smile before turning to the Headmaster and replying, "Yeah, I'm very well rested."

"Good," Dumbledore said. "Then would you mind terribly, Harry, telling me what happened? You were found locked in your bathroom, if you recall."

Harry looked at him shakily for a moment before saying, "Yes… I remember. Well I- I don't remember being found, but… I remember being in the bathroom."

He then looked down and folded his hands in his lap, surveying them intently. When he made no move to speak again, Dumbledore prodded gently.

"You were found alone, so I'm assuming that you weren't attacked by another student…" Dumbledore trailed off, looking at Harry expectantly.

Harry shook his head, still looking down.

"And not by a Death Eater, I presume?"

Harry glanced up quickly before shaking his head no again. He knew Dumbledore didn't really suspect a Death Eater had been inside the castle camping out in the boys' bathroom waiting for him to enter, so his method of questioning was making Harry apprehensive and nervous.

"So," Dumbledore continued, "we now know you have not been attacked by anyone, neither a student nor a Death Eater. Would you please enlighten me, then, to how you ended up unconscious and wounded?"

"Well, I--" Harry faltered, unable to find the words he needed to express what had happened. Unconsciously, he looked over to Sirius for reassurance. Sirius met his gaze and quietly got up out of his chair and took a seat on the bed next to Harry's knees. Harry smiled at him gratefully when he reached out and ruffled his hair gently, offering him silent support.

Harry paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before glancing at Dumbledore and beginning to speak. "I… I had just gone to see Sirius, actually, and by the time I left I was… I was upset, and angry." Harry stopped here for a moment to shoot his godfather an apologetic look. He continued then, saying "I ran back to Gryffindor Tower, but I didn't… I didn't want Ron and Hermione to worry or- or to ask me what was wrong. I thought that I could be alone in the bathroom so I locked myself in."

"Wait," Sirius interrupted. "You did that locking charm?"

"Yeah," Harry said, confused. "Who else would have done it?"

"Well, I… I don't know, I hadn't really thought much about _how_ you got locked in, but- Harry, that locking charm was incredibly powerful! We couldn't get it undone, Remus had to vanish the entire door before we could get in."

Harry opened his mouth to say something but he froze suddenly as a slow realization dawned over his features. "You tried to break the door down? That's how you dislocated your shoulder?"

"Well, yeah," Sirius said, unabashedly. "I was going to get to you, Harry, whether I had to break the door down or not."

Harry looked at him silently for a moment before he chuckled suddenly. "Really, Sirius, you of all people should have known how to break the charm. I'm surprised Remus didn't either."

"What? Why?" Sirius asked somewhat indignantly. "How could we not know the counter-curse for a door locking spell?"

"There is no counter-curse," Harry said, "that's why I love it. People will just try and try and try to find the right spell or charm to open whatever it is you locked, but all you have to do is know the password."

"…the password?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded and confirmed, "The password."

Sirius thought for a moment before looking at Harry, stunned. "You wouldn't," he said.

Harry grinned at him suddenly, mischievously, and said, "I would."

Sirius let out an astonished laugh and looked at him in disbelief as he said, "'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'"

"It works very well as a password, I've found," Harry replied genially.

"That it does," Sirius replied, still chuckling appreciatively. "How did you find out about that spell?"

Harry's smile slipped from his face and his features fell into that shuttered look that Sirius had begun to recognize far too easily. "I read it in a book," he said elusively.

Sirius opened his mouth to question him about it, but Dumbledore spoke before Sirius had the chance to.

"May I ask what happened after you locked the door, Harry?" his tone was still soft, but it had a more somber note in it now than it had earlier.

"Er… well… I, erm…" Harry stumbled for a moment before blurting out quickly, "Ipunchedthemirror."

Sirius nodded in understanding- he had been expecting that answer. Dumbledore, however, inquired, "You punched the mirror? Why?"

Harry looked at him, confused. "Well, I was angry. I just… lost control for a moment. I thought that… that maybe punching the mirror would make me feel better."

"And did it?" he pushed.

"Well, no, I suppose not, but—look, what is it you're really asking?" Suspicion was beginning to creep its way into Harry's voice.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and looked at Harry calmly over his long, weathered fingers. "I am just trying to be certain that I have an accurate account of what happened. You're quite sure that you have told me everything?"

"What—Yes, I'm sure!" Harry exclaimed, exasperated. "I got angry, so I punched the mirror. Why? What did you think?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment before he answered, "I just wanted to know, Harry, that you had no particular use in mind for some broken shards of mirror."

"Particular use?" Harry said, his voice low. Harry drew back a bit, his eyes narrowed. "You don't mean…you don't think… you can't mean _suicide_, Professor."

Harry stopped abruptly and he looked at Dumbledore, willing him to protest, willing him to tell Harry that of course, he would never think that of Harry. But he didn't. He merely stayed silent, waiting for Harry to speak again. Harry's features hardened and his eyes turned cold as he bit out, "I have enough people trying to kill me without adding myself to that list, thanks."

Sirius winced and grabbed Harry's hand in his while Dumbledore nodded at him.

"I am quite aware of the number of people who would very much like to kill you, my dear boy. Like you said, I was just making sure that you were not one of them," Dumbledore told him quietly.

"You shouldn't have had to make sure! You should have known that I would never do that!" Harry snapped, fuming.

"It is my responsibility, Harry, to make sure that you are safe- even from yourself. Under the circumstances, I felt that I had to ask," Dumbledore said, and his voice at that moment reminded Harry of why exactly it was that Dumbledore was chosen to be the headmaster of the most prestigious and famous magical school in the world. Dumbledore's voice changed, however, when he next spoke and he addressed Harry softly, in a way that sent warmth curling within Harry's chest despite the anger that still lingered there.

"You should know, however, that I would not expect you to harm yourself in any way, Harry. Your strength has awed me many times throughout the years, and I have seen few people who possess it in such vast quantities as you do. And I have met a great many people in my life, Harry, so that is saying something extraordinary about your character," Dumbledore told him encouragingly. "That is precisely why I was so particularly worried by your emotional state so far this term. The blame for that, however, lies entirely with me. I had expected your strength to persevere even through death, and that was foolish of me. No one is unaffected by losing a loved one, and you most of all have shown that if any part of you rivals your strength, it is your love. I should have expected you to be distraught, and you were well within your rights to be terribly upset. If I had known, earlier, that Sirius' absence from your life would cause you so much pain, I would certainly not have kept him from you. I had hoped that by keeping him secret, we could protect him from those who would hunt him to hurt you again, Harry. It was my goal, in the long run, to keep him with you longer, not to keep him from you. "

Harry was shaking now, and he shifted so he could lean into Sirius. Talking about the time when Sirius had been dead to him made his heart constrict with panic- he never wanted Sirius to leave again. Harry felt the ridiculous urge to throw himself into Sirius' arms, and he only just managed to hold himself back as he did not want to jostle Sirius' injured shoulder. He surprised himself, however, when he shifted forward slightly and turned his head so he could lean it softly- tentatively- into the crook of Sirius' neck, and when Sirius turned his own head and pressed his lips to Harry's temple, Harry squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears from falling.

"Please know, Harry, that while I made a grand mistake in separating you from your godfather, I have never done anything without your best interests in mind, and Sirius' as well. I am deeply sorry, my dear boy, to have caused you so much pain, and I hope that, with time, you will be able to forgive me."

Harry nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment, but he couldn't bring himself to speak or face Dumbledore. He heard the headmaster's robes rustle slightly as he stood, and when he vanished his chair Harry turned his head a bit so he could peer at him from underneath Sirius' chin. Harry suddenly felt incredibly childish, hiding from his headmaster within his godfather's shoulder, and immediately went to pull away, flushing in embarrassment. But before he could sit up, Sirius' good hand appeared and combed softly through his hair and put a slight pressure on his head, urging him stay huddled against Sirius' body. Harry, still feeling vaguely uncomfortable and entirely bewildered, had no idea why instead of pulling away with a small smile, he allowed himself to be pulled back down.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at the pair of them; they were two of a kind, extraordinary and spectacular and full of fire just waiting to be released. Dumbledore felt secure in the knowledge that now that they were together, they would both be fine. The damage had been done, but now it was time for the healing process to begin.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, almost as an afterthought, "although you may already know this, I am pleased to tell you that the Ministry has officially recognized Sirius as your godfather, which means that your full custody has been handed over to him permanently. Congratulations."

Harry had picked up his head at this news, and he looked at Sirius questioningly now. He didn't notice as Dumbledore slipped silently out of the hospital wing.

"Is that true?" Harry asked hopefully.

"It's true," Sirius replied. "So you know… the offer that I made you, at the end of your third year… well, it still stands, if you'd like a new home."

"Of _course_ I want one!" Harry exclaimed excitedly. "Sirius, how could you even doubt that?"

"Well, I wasn't entirely sure…" Sirius trailed off, looking at Harry a little sheepishly. "So you'll come, then? You'll move in with me?"

"Yes," Harry replied definitively, "I'll move in with you. But… will Dumbledore let me? I thought that I had to stay with my aunt."

Sirius grinned at him wickedly and said, "Let me worry about that part, kid. You just start thinking about what kind of pranks you want to leave for your relatives for after you've moved out."

Harry thought that Sirius calling him 'kid' should have bothered him, and he had no doubt that if it had come from any other person in the world, it would have… but for some reason, with Sirius, Harry rather liked it. Harry grinned stupidly at his godfather for a moment as he realized that a lot of things were different when it came to Sirius and him.

Just then, Madam Pomfrey came hurrying back over in a flurry of movement, and before Harry knew it she had changed the bandage on his wrist, thrust another potion into his hand, and placed his clothes at the foot of the bed.

"All right, Mr. Potter, as soon as you drink that potion you're free to go," she said briskly. "Do try and take it easy for a day or two, will you? I don't want you back in here before you've time to really get out in the first place."

Harry downed the potion in one go and marveled over the fact that it tasted vaguely of peppermint instead of vomit, or something equally as vile. He then grinned and hopped out of bed, glad to finally be moving.

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," he said.

"Just see to it that you're not back in here until the next Quidditch match, understood? No use in trying to keep you out of here then…" and then she was off, leaving him and Sirius alone.

"What time is it?" Harry asked Sirius. He had only just realized that he had absolutely no idea which day it was, let alone which time of the day it was. This must have shown on his face as Sirius was chuckling slightly when he replied.

"It's about an hour until dinner on Friday afternoon," he said amiably. He then stood up from his chair and stepped back, pulling the curtain closed around the bed so Harry could get dressed but continuing to talk to him from the other side. "If we leave now, you can go back to the Tower and grab a shower before dinner. Or better yet, you can come with me back to my rooms and use my shower. I know Remus would love to see you- he's been worried sick about you as well- we share a common room, see, and actually, I really should get a room added for you- and a bathroom, of course- that way you can stay over with us whenever you like. And you're welcome to bring any of your friends with you, you know that..."

Harry discarded his pajamas and pulled on his clothes quickly, and as he listened to Sirius talk and create plans for his new room within his Hogwarts quarters, Harry knew immediately that he would never forget the warm, soft glow that he felt pulsating within his chest.

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So, there it is. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I'm already working on the next one but long waits seem to be a trend with me. Please stay tuned, Chapter 18 will come, I promise. In the meantime, please leave reviews! Love and hugs to you all, and best wishes for the New Year!

Xoxo,

Willow Ann


	19. Chapter 18

A/N: Hello everyone! Firstly, just let me say that if you have not finished _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ yet, then forget this chapter for now and go finish the book, immediately! It is brilliant and wonderful and I am beyond in love with it. Once you are done with the book, THEN come back and read my story -wink-. If you have already finished _Deathly Hallows_, then read away!

So, yes. Chapter 18. Here it is. I sincerely hope that everyone likes this it. Anti- Harry/Ginny shippers will be quite upset with me, but I feel adamant about their relationship. I hope you'll all continue to read and enjoy my story anyway.

Love as always goes to my wonderful beta, Kristen, and to all of you readers who have sent me nagging emails and private messages asking for more. I know I'm horribly slow at updating and I love you wonderful people all the more for sticking with me. You're all fantastic.

Enough of my ramblings! Go forth and read.

Xoxo,

Willow Ann

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_Harry's footsteps echoed loudly on the stairs of the empty room as he turned around slowly and walked towards the Veil in the middle of the room. There were voices coming from just behind it—whispering—if only he got a little bit closer, he could make out what they were saying… _

_Harry walked slowly down the steps until he stood in front of the Veil. He stopped mere inches from it, keeping his body perfectly still as he strained his ears to make out the voices. They were all speaking at once, very softly, and he couldn't make anything out until—_

_"Harry!" _

_Harry whipped his head around. Someone had called his name—whispered it, really, just like all the other whispering voices, but this time he could hear what this one voice was saying as it cried out, its echo bouncing raggedly off the walls of the cavernous room._

_"Harry!"_

_There it was again. _

_"Sirius?" Harry looked around him—he was sure that was Sirius' voice, but it sounded like it was coming from far, far away._

_"This is your fault, Harry."_

_"Sirius!" Harry shouted, running around to the other side of the Veil. "Sirius, where are you?"_

_"You killed me, Harry," Sirius' voice hissed accusingly._

_"No!" Harry yelled. "You're back! You're fine! Where are you?" He was running around the Veil, around the empty room, looking and looking and looking for his godfather that he could hear, but couldn't see—_

_"I died because of you, Harry." _

Harry's eyes snapped open and he bolted upright into a sitting position, breathing heavily. He looked around frantically, terrified and confused for a horrible moment before he realized that he was in his bed in Gryffindor Tower, the sheets wrapped around his sweat covered body. He sighed and reached up a trembling hand to wipe over his face, trying to even out his breathing. _'These were supposed to stop,'_ he thought to himself bitterly.

He had been released from the hospital wing Friday afternoon, and it was now Sunday night—or Monday morning, rather—and in a few hours' time he would have to wake up for classes and for Quidditch trials that afternoon. He had spent the weekend with Sirius and Remus in their rooms—'_Our rooms,'_ Harry reminded himself—with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny visiting as well. Hermione and Ginny had nearly knocked him unconscious again with their exuberant hugging, and Ron had even joined them briefly as he gave Harry a short but fierce embrace. Harry immediately felt guilty, seeing their drawn, tired faces, but they had accepted his apologies easily and seemed ready, for now, to go without an explanation. Harry knew that eventually he would have to tell them what had happened, but he wanted to delay that for as long as possible.

Harry fumbled on his bedside table for his wand and then muttered, "Tempus." Glowing numbers appeared in the air next to his head reading 3:45, and Harry groaned. It was the middle of the night, he had a big day tomorrow, and he was tired. All he wanted to do was just go back to sleep, but he had never in the past been able to fall asleep again after a nightmare.

'_Come on, Harry, you're not five years old,'_ he chided himself. _'Just go back to sleep. Everyone is fine.'_

He settled back down under his covers and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he adjusted his head on his pillow. There, see? He could do this. He tried to ignore the way his body was still shaking slightly and the way his t-shirt was still sticking to him, slick with sweat. He rolled over onto his stomach and tried to clear his mind, tried to make it blank and empty like he had trained himself to do over the summer, but pieces of his nightmares kept flashing through his head, replaying like an old movie.

Sirius… arching backwards gracefully and then disappearing silently through the Veil.

Voldemort rising up out of the cauldron.

'_It's your fault I'm dead, Harry.'_

His mum screaming, and then a flash of green light.

'_Kill the spare!'_

Sirius… falling… falling… falling…

Harry leaned over the side of his bed just in time and vomited violently onto the floor. He silently thanked himself for remembering to put up a silencing charm as he continued to dry heave, his stomach wrenching itself painfully. He gulped down several breaths of air as soon as he was able and then vanished away the puddle of sick before flopping over haplessly onto his back. His limbs felt like lead and he let them lay where they had fallen; he had no energy at all to move his little toe, let alone roll into some sort of normal position. So it was back to this, then. Feeling so tired all he wanted to do was go to sleep for years and years, yet unable to fall asleep because of nightmares. Harry spent the rest of the night staring straight above him, watching as the room slowly got brighter and shafts of light made their way in tiny beams across the ceiling.

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Harry jumped slightly as Ginny plopped down at the Gryffindor table next to him, huffing angrily as she dropped her bag unceremoniously at her feet.

"What's up with you?" Ron asked her between bites of his lunch.

"_Malfoy_," Ginny said in exasperation. She opened her mouth to continue, but Hermione cut across her before she could speak.

"Just ignore him, Ginny," Hermione said sagely. Ron gave her an incredulous look before making a shushing motion at her with his hand and turning back to his sister.

"No, don't ignore him—hex him!" he said emphatically. "What happened? Tell me you hexed him."

"I did," Ginny grinned. "Bat-Bogey Hex. He was being snide about Quidditch trials today."

"Snide how?" Harry asked, annoyed. "If he was making comments about you, just wait 'til you whip his chasers in the first match."

"Firstly, you haven't chosen me for the team yet," Ginny started, and held up her hand when Harry opened his mouth to protest. "Honestly, Harry. If I'm the best for the team, then pick me, but don't do me any favors," she said sternly. Harry looked at her for a moment, taking in her serious expression before nodding his head in agreement.

"Alright," he acquiesced. "So that's firstly. What's secondly?"

"Secondly," Ginny continued, "is that actually… he wasn't making comments about me. He was making them about you."

Harry blinked at her in confusion for a moment before saying, "Well, that's hardly new, is it?"

"Well, no… not exactly, but--" Ginny paused here, blushing slightly before looking determinedly into Harry's eyes and saying, "He said I had better be more careful about who I date, because you're likely to jump off your broom from grief the first chance you get."

_'Jump off my broom… or smash my fist into a glass mirror,"_ Harry thought to himself, ashamed. He looked away from his friends, hiding his face as he attempted to squash the ugly emotions that comment had ignited in his chest. But as he turned his head away from his friends, he turned it towards the staff table, and caught site of his godfather sitting up there next to Remus, looking healthy and happy as he talked animatedly with his friend. And as quickly as they had come, those clenching fingers around his heart eased and melted away, leaving him only with the quiet, happy realization that Sirius was alive.

"Well, I've hardly got anything to grieve over anymore, now do I?" he asked his friends, nodding towards Sirius. When he looked back at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, all three were looking at him in surprise, and Harry knew he had stunned them with his easy and, for once, un-brooding demeanor. Hermione beamed at him as Ron said, "Absolutely, mate!"

As Harry picked up his fork and began to eat his lunch again, he felt a hand slip into his under the table. He looked over at Ginny, who was smiling at him softly, and squeezed her hand in silent recognition. She squeezed back and then winked at him cheekily, pulling her hand away. Harry shook his head slightly in amusement, a lopsided grin stretching over his face as he turned his head to glance at Sirius again. This time, as though Sirius could tell he was being watched, he turned his head towards his godson and gave him a large, goofy grin as he waved at him stupidly. Harry chuckled aloud this time as he waved back and then turned again to his lunch. Here, in the middle of the day when he was surrounded by the warm, comfortable presences of his friends and his godfather, he could pretend that a few hours of peace were enough, and that his night hours were not haunted by nightmares and inner demons that clutched with steady fingers at his mind.

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"You know, mate…" Ron said hesitantly as they walked out onto the Quidditch pitch to see hordes of Gryffindors already lined up there. Ron swallowed nervously as he looked around, saying, "…what Ginny said… before… about not doing her any favors? Well, that goes for me as well."

Harry turned to him, looking at him quietly for a moment before thumping him on the back reassuringly. "I know, Ron," he said. Ron nodded glumly then, looking downtrodden as he turned away to join the other hopefuls, but Harry reached out and grasped his arm before he could walk away.

"But mate," Harry whispered with a conspiratorial grin, "you won't need any favors. You're the best keeper at Hogwarts, you proved that last year."

Ron seemed to stand a bit taller then, and he lost the defeated air that had been hanging around him since they had started their walk down to the pitch.

"Yeah," he said, nodding his head as he convinced himself of Harry's words. "Yeah, you're right."

"'Course I am," Harry said cheekily. Ron grinned at him and then punched him lightly on the shoulder before trotting away to stand with the other Gryffindors. Harry walked out in front of them, surveying the faces before him. Several he recognized— Katie Bell, Dean Thomas, Jack Sloper, Ginny and Ron—others, however, were completely new to him.

"Hello everyone! Welcome to the Gryffindor Quidditch trials!" Harry announced loudly, smiling broadly when a cheer arose both from the trial participants and from the members of the school that had come down to watch, who were seated in the stands. "Now, if you have, by some accident, found yourself down here on the pitch and you actually do _not_ wish to participate in the trials, please remove yourselves from the pitch now." No one moved even a finger, afraid that it would be mistaken as a withdrawal from the trials. Harry's eyes lingered for a moment on a tiny girl with blonde, braided pigtails who couldn't be anything other than a first year. Harry considered removing her from the trials, but then shrugged to himself mentally. _'If she isn't any good she'll be eliminated quickly enough,'_ he thought to himself.

"Alright then," he said aloud. "Everyone mount your brooms and take some warm up laps around the pitch!"

Twenty minutes later, Harry had sorted them out into groups—the Chasers, Beaters, and Keepers. "Beaters and Keepers, keep warming up down the other end of the pitch, and keep low. Chasers, up in the air!"

As Harry watched his Chasers scrimmage each other, he quickly eliminated a mousy boy who had absolutely no control over his broom and two girls who did more giggling than Chasing. His eyes lingered on Katie Bell just long enough to confirm his suspicions—she was right on her game, as usual. _'There's one Chaser,'_ he thought to himself, but his attention was ripped away from Katie as a blur of red and gold rushed past him, and he turned his head to see Ginny swooping through the air with the Quaffle, her face determined as she sped towards the goal posts. Harry watched her, unable to take his eyes away as her hair streamed behind her like liquid fire. He continued to track her movements for several moments, watching until she passed the Quaffle to—the tiny first year. Harry felt surprise well up inside his chest as he watched the small girl fly around the pitch, not quite as fast or as good as Katie and Ginny, but definitely talented. He turned his eyes to the last Chaser in the air—a boy who looked to be about fourteen. He looked strong for his age, though, and was moving through the air confidently but his aim seemed to be less than accurate. Harry thought to himself quietly for a moment, observing the four players in the air for a moment more before calling them down.

"Chasers, come down here. Keepers, up in the air!"

Ron was only competing against one other boy; a burly seventh year who looked as though he could smash the Quaffle itself with one hand. They flew to opposite goal posts and hovered there, waiting. Harry turned to the four people in front of him.

"Ginny, Katie, and…" he looked down at the boy's name before continuing, "Jeff Tucker. Go take shots at the Keepers."

"Yes, sir," Ginny said cheekily before grinning at him and flying away. The other two followed her lead and zoomed into the air with the Quaffle, passing it between them and alternating between the goal posts. Harry watched them work together in silence, seemingly focused solely on the air, but he heard the little girl sigh next to him. He looked down at her in time to see her turn and begin to walk away, her shoulders slumped.

"Hey," Harry said. "Where are you going?"

She turned around and looked at him hopefully. "Sir?" she asked.

Harry chuckled at her. "There's no need to call me sir. It's just Harry. What's your name?" he asked her. Even though he could have found her name on his list, Harry found himself inexplicably wanting to talk to her.

"Ann Mitchell," she replied, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. Harry smiled at her, amused, and thought to himself that she rather reminded him of a very cute house elf.

"Well, Ann Mitchell," he said to her, "don't go anywhere, you're next up in the air."

"You mean I'm not eliminated?" she asked, her voice excited.

"I haven't made any decisions yet," Harry said cryptically. "I'll be posting the list in the common room some time tomorrow."

"Oh," she said. "Thanks! Okay. I'll just wait here then."

"You do that," he replied, taken with her quirky, child-like confidence.

Harry's attention shifted back to those in the air, and he saw immediately that Ron was the better Keeper. The seventh year was strong in the air, but he missed the Quaffle more often than he caught it, letting it sail through the goal posts nearly every time. Ron, on the other hand, was clearly on his game, catching everything that came his way and only fumbling when the Chasers gave him particularly spectacular shots to save. He could have called them all down right then, but he wanted to see Ann fly again so he shouted, "Keepers, stay where you are! Tucker, come down here—Mitchell, you're up."

She smiled at him cutely before taking off into the air, flying up towards Katie and Ginny. The three settled in easily with each other, working as well together as they had previously. Harry felt a small knot of anticipation coil up inside his chest; it would be a tough call between Tucker and Mitchell; they were nearly evenly matched. After a few minutes of watching them in the air, he called everyone down again.

"Okay everyone, Chaser and Keeper trials are officially over, but I'm going to send you all up so the Beaters can have a go at you. Try not to get hit on the first day, yeah?" he asked with a grin. There were a few chuckles around the group and they nodded, taking off into the air. Harry then turned to his Beaters.

"Okay, Beaters. Sloper, you're up first with Dean," he said.

"Cheers, mate," Dean said as he took off into the air, beater's bat in hand. Harry felt puzzled himself as he watched his year-mate fly around the pitch; Dean had never been interested in Quidditch before, and watching him fly made it apparent why: he wasn't very good at flying at all, let alone playing Quidditch. But as he watched Dean for several long minutes, he realized that the other boy was spending more time following Ginny around in the air than he was hitting bludgers. Harry felt his cheeks heat up angrily as Dean pulled up level with her when she paused for a moment and reached out a hand to touch a strand of her hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail. Anger rose up in Harry's chest and he quickly looked over at Ron to see if he was also seeing what was going on, and was relieved to note that his best friend was indeed looking murderously at Dean, his face a violent shade of red. _'Good,' _he thought to himself, _'It's not just me then. His behavior is completely inappropriate for the pitch.'_ But even as he mounted his broom and flew into the air, he knew it was a weak excuse.

"Thomas!" he barked once he was within ear shot. "Kindly leave your romantic sentiments away from my pitch and get your hands off my Chaser!"

Dean jumped and quickly snatched his hand away from Ginny, who was blushing furiously but was looking at him with a mixture of defiance and curiosity in her eyes.

"You tell him, Harry!" Ron shouted.

"I'll tell _you_, Ronald Weasley!" Ginny shouted back as she pelted in his direction. Ron's eyes widened and he quickly zoomed the other way and Harry laughed, watching as his best friend tried to dodge his furious sister.

"Okay, Sloper, Thomas, down. Next two Beaters get up here!"

Dean flew past Harry and grinned at him unabashedly, and Harry glared at him all the way to the ground.

Half an hour later, Harry still had no Beaters. "This is hopeless," Harry muttered to himself, dropping his head down into his hands. All the people who had tried out for Beaters were awful; one couldn't stay on his broom, another had an uncanny knack for hitting the bludgers towards his teammates instead of away from them, and another was confused as to which balls were the bludgers and wanted to know why they moved by themselves. Harry did a couple of restless loop-the-loops, trying to work off the nervous tension that had settled into his shoulders.

"Having some trouble with your Beaters?" a voice yelled up from below him.

Harry snapped his head down and to his amazement, saw the Weasley twins standing on the pitch, their brooms in hand. Harry flew down to them immediately.

"Oi!" said Harry as he got closer to the ground and finally landed. "What are you two doing here?"

"Trying out for Quidditch, obviously," said Fred.

"Looks like you could use some good Beaters, if you ask me," George said in a mock whisper.

"But—the shop!" Harry exclaimed. "I thought you were going to open your joke shop when you left school early last year."

"Oh, we did," George said.

"It's booming--" Fred continued.

"Flourishing--"

"Thriving--"

"Wildly entertaining--"

"But…?" Harry interrupted.

"But," Fred said, "Mum is really nagging us to get our N.E.W.T's. Naturally, we didn't want anything to do with school anymore, not after that hag Umbridge was here last year, but Mum won't let off so--"

"Being the brilliant people we are," George continued seamlessly, "we spoke with Dumbledore and have come up with an arrangement that is beneficial for all parties, including you."

"Really?" said Harry skeptically. "And what arrangement would that be?"

"You are looking at Hogwarts' first, part-time students!" Fred and George said together, beaming.

"Part-time students?" said an incredulous voice from behind Harry. "Why can't I be a part-time student then?"

"Ah, brother dearest," George said to Ron, who had flown down with Ginny when they had spotted their brothers, and were both now hovering a few feet behind and above Harry's head. "It's because you're just not smart enough to pull off a business _and_ school."

"We, on the other hand, are," Fred said confidently.

Ron huffed at them and crossed his arms, glaring at them. "That's not fair," he said petulantly.

"That's _brilliant_," Ginny said. "Can I come to your shop sometime? Ooooh, can I work there? Please?"

Fred and George laughed at her eagerness before one of them replied, "'Course you can visit, Gin. We'll see about working—maybe over the summer."

Ginny pouted at them good-naturedly for a moment before grinning mischievously, and Harry was taken by the way both expressions looked upon her face. He didn't realize he was staring until George punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Huh?" he asked eloquently.

The surrounding Weasley's gave him looks of mixed amusement, with suspicion dawning in the twins' eyes that was, however, quickly veiled.

"So, Harry," the twins said. "What do you say? Can we try out?"

"Er—well, I don't know," Harry said honestly. "Did Dumbledore say anything about part-time students playing Quidditch? Are they allowed?"

Fred and George grinned at him here. "He said 'Ask the Captain.'"

Harry grinned back. "Well then, why are you still on the ground?"

And with two identical whoops, the Weasley twins took off into the air and Harry's Beater problem was solved.

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Later that evening found Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins sitting in the common room around the fire, sprawled out contentedly across different couches and armchairs or, in the case of the twins, across the floor. Harry was in an armchair with a list of all the Quidditch hopefuls spread out on a book across his lap. Several of the names were already crossed out or circled, but Harry was not quite yet finished with the official team roster. On the side of his parchment in a blank space, he had written:

Gryffindor Quidditch Team

Keeper: Ronald Weasley

Beaters: Fred and George Weasley

Seeker: Harry Potter

Chasers: Katie Bell, Ginny Weasley,

… but that was where it left off. Harry could not decide on his last Chaser. Should he pick Tucker, or Mitchell? Both were good fliers, light in the air and had an easy time maneuvering themselves around the pitch. Mitchell seemed to have better aim than Tucker, but she was so small! Slytherin would crush her if they played dirty, which they always did. Harry sighed to himself; could he really be responsible for her too, if she got hurt because he had picked her for the team? Tucker was bigger, even if he wasn't as good, and would have more resilience against the brutalities that often erupted in Quidditch. His ability to last longer than Mitchell probably made him more valuable than her in the long run, anyway. He reached out his quill to circle Tucker's name, but just then there was a commotion at the portrait hole and a loud barking, and then a large black dog came bounding into the common room.

"Snuffles!" six voices cried out in unison as the dog leaped towards them.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, immediately worried that his godfather was a) in his common room and b) back in his animagus form. Had the ministry decided to revoke their pardon? Was Sirius on the run again? Harry didn't think he could bear if it Sirius had to leave Hogwarts… go back into hiding in Grimmauld Place… No, Harry wouldn't let him, he hated it there—

A loud bark brought him out of his panic, and he turned his head to find Padfoot exactly eyelevel with him, as he had placed his front paws on the armrest of Harry's armchair and now stood with his face right in Harry's. Harry blinked at him for a moment before suddenly he was laughing, because Padfoot had leaned forward and placed several sloppy licks across his cheek.

"I think he just wanted to see you, Harry," Hermione said from her position on the couch. Padfoot yipped in agreement and placed another wet kiss across Harry's face, and Harry chuckled at his godfather's antics while rubbing behind his ears. Padfoot whined in pleasure, tilting his head to give Harry better access and letting his tongue loll out of his mouth in a lazy, doggy grin.

"You can see me in person any time you want, you know," Harry murmured at the dog, who licked his fingers in response.

"Oi, Harry, you're hogging the cute doggie," Ginny said as she slid off the couch she had been sharing with Hermione and onto the floor. "Come here, Snuffles," she cooed.

Padfoot yipped again and leaped over to her, licking her face as she giggled happily and wrapped her arms around him and tried to bury her face in his fur to get away from his tongue. "You're just an overgrown puppy," she said fondly as he flopped over onto his back in front of her, exposing his belly for her to scratch.

"Snuffles," George said sternly.

"We are most disappointed in you," Fred continued. Padfoot rolled over back onto his stomach and shimmied, belly touching the ground, towards the twins, his head down.

"You were just called _cute_, and you let a little girl treat you like a cuddly teddy bear," George said in mock outrage.

"I'm not little!" Ginny said, but her protests were lost under the laughter that erupted from the group when Padfoot placed his head on the ground and covered his eyes with his paws, looking embarrassed.

"That's right," said Fred approvingly. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

"But now!" cried George. "Rise up!"

And Padfoot got to his feet, standing tall and looking imperious.

"Be ferocious!" Fred said dramatically, and Padfoot rose his hackles and growled menacingly, his teeth showing in a gleam of white.

"Be vicious!" George exclaimed. Padfoot snarled, snapping his teeth ominously.

"Be--" Fred had started to yell another command that would, no doubt, make Padfoot appear even more murderous than he was already looking, but he was prevented from finishing his demand by a loud, piercing scream.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" a high, female voice squealed across the common room. "GRIM! THERE'S A GRIM IN THE COMMON ROOM!"

All six people (and one dog) in front of the fire, along with everyone else in the common room, looked across to the bottom of the girls' staircase, where Parvati and Lavendar had just descended and were standing, rooted to the spot, clutching at each other and looking terrified. The twins immediately burst into laughter at their horrified faces, and the others started chuckling along with them.

"It's okay, Parvati," Hermione said, "He's not a Grim, he's just a dog."

"_That_?" said Parvati incredulously, pointing. "No, that thing is definitely a Grim. One of you is going to die."

"Oh, honestly, you two," Ginny said. "Do you actually think a Grim is likely to be sitting in front of the fire in the common room? He's a perfectly harmless dog, I assure you."

"Trust you to like savage beasts," Parvati said meanly. "It's sitting closest to you, I'll bet it's you who dies."

Harry's wand was suddenly in his hands; no one had seen him even reach for it, and although he wasn't pointing it at either girl he was fingering it lazily, looking quietly menacing.

"That 'savage beast,'" he said lowly, "belongs to me." As if to confirm Harry's words, Padfoot walked over and sat down next to Harry, placing his head on Harry's knee and looking up at the girls as if to convince them that he was not savage or beast-like. Both Parvati and Lavandar's mouths were hanging slightly open at the warning in Harry's voice.

"Right," Lavendar said. "Sorry, Harry. You're dog's sweet."

"Yes, he is," Harry said, smiling at them coldly, but he wasn't finished. "And you would do well to remember not to throw death around lightly."

Both of the girls paled dramatically, and Parvati's eyes filled with tears as she seemed to realize what she had said.

"I—I didn't mean it, honestly," she said, her voice wavering. "Really, Harry, Ginny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

Harry sighed, and suddenly the coldness left him and he was just plain Harry again, looking suddenly tired and worn out. "I know you didn't. It's just… it's not funny, yeah?"

"Yeah, I know, Harry," Parvati said earnestly. "I know."

Parvati and Lavendar then turned around and went right back up the girls' staircase, and the common room slowly started to fill with noise again, as everyone had quieted down to listen and watch when the altercation had arisen. Fred and George began popping jokes and eventually the atmosphere between the six friends loosened up again as well, the smiles returning to everyone's faces.

Sirius looked up at Harry through Padfoot's eyes, keeping his head on his godson's knee. He hadn't missed the troubled expression that had not quite left Harry's face, or the dark circles underneath his eyes that seemed to be slowly returning. He let out a doggie sigh and licked Harry's fingers, trying to relieve the lingering tension he could still feel surrounding his godson. Harry brought his hand up absently and started stroking Padfoot's head, his expression vacant and blank as he thought. Sirius snuffled and whined, biting softly at Harry's fingers as he tried to pull Harry out of his head, but it was no use. Harry made a soft shushing noise at him and patted him consolingly, but his eyes didn't become any less distant.

"I'll take care of him," a voice whispered into Padfoot's ear, and then suddenly Ginny was kneeling next to Harry's armchair, leaning her arms on the armrest and looking at him, trying to catch his gaze.

"Harry?" she asked him quietly. He turned his gaze onto hers and looked at her unseeingly for a moment before he blinked and shook his head ruefully, smiling embarrassedly.

"Sorry," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just--"

"Thinking, I know," Ginny responded.

Harry looked at her, smiling. "Yeah," he said.

Ginny pinned him with her eyes for a moment, happy to see that his gaze was finally focused. "You think too much, sometimes," she said.

"More like all the time," he said back.

"Well, it's good to think all the time," Ginny reasoned, "but not like you do."

"And how do I think?" Harry asked her, half teasing, half serious.

"You brood more than you think," Ginny said.

Harry didn't say anything for a moment, but he looked at her with such intensity that the moment seemed to stretch into an eternity for Ginny, and she could feel her heart start to pound in her chest as she looked into Harry's green, fiery gaze.

"I just…" Harry trailed off, seemingly unsure, but then he made up his mind and whispered fiercely, "I don't want you to die."

Ginny looked at him, stunned, and Harry reached up a hand and trailed the back of his index finger down her cheek, giving her face a fleeting caress that left her face heating up and her blood pounding in her veins and was her mind playing tricks on her, or was his face getting closer to hers?

"I won't let you die," he whispered, his voice softer but just as earnest and fierce and he was definitely leaning in now because she could feel his breath on her lips and then---

"OI! WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK YOU'RE DOING?" a voice yelled out.

They jumped apart, Harry flinging his body against the far side of the armchair so hard that he knocked some of the wind out of himself, and Ginny twisting away so she was seated innocently a few feet away from the chair, her face flaming red. All three of the Weasley brothers were looking suspiciously in their direction, their wands half pointing at Harry and half at the floor. Hermione, however, was looking severely disappointed and she wacked Ron over the head.

"Ow!" he exclaimed. "What was that for?"

Hermione tutted at him disapprovingly but didn't answer.

"N-nothing," Harry stuttered, "We weren't doing anything." Ginny nodded her head rapidly in confirmation.

"That didn't look like nothing to me," George muttered, his mouth in a curious shape as it was torn between frowning and grinning madly. Harry gulped nervously; the expression made him look kind of insane.

Ginny, it seemed, had recovered by this point because she said sternly, "Well if it wasn't nothing, brother dearest, it would be _none of your business_."

"That's right," Hermione agreed, nodding her head as the other three boys spluttered indignantly.

Ginny rose before they could say anything more and said, "I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Snuffles, have a safe trip back to your shop twins. See you all in the morning."

She then patted Padfoot on the head, who was doggie glaring at Ron, and then disappeared up the girls' staircase. Harry's eyes followed her until she was out of view and then he turned his attention back to the group, at which point he realized that staring at their baby sister like some obsessed freak was not the best move after nearly kissing her in the common room.

'_Oh, my god,'_ Harry thought to himself, internally realizing what had just happened. _'I nearly kissed her. I nearly kissed her!'_

"Well, that's me off to bed then too," Hermione said cheerfully, breaking the awkward silence that had descended upon them. "Goodnight everyone! Safe trip back boys," she said before disappearing as well.

Harry cleared his throat nervously into the silence. "Right, then," he said, "Well, I guess I'll just be off too…" he rose quickly, patting Sirius on the head as he did so.

"Night, Padfoot, night you guys--"

"Harry," Fred called out when he had reached the bottom of the boys' staircase. Harry cringed and shut his eyes as he froze. _'So close,'_ he thought. He then braced himself and turned around, staring back at the three brothers who were staring at him with a mixture of incredulity, amusement, and horror.

"Do you like our sister?" George asked, straight to the point.

Harry panicked. If he said no, would he be lying? Harry knew the answer to the question right away. If he said yes, then, would they kill him painfully and slowly right now, or would they call Bill and Charlie to come and help? Oh, God, this was a disaster of humongous proportion…

"Harry," Fred said again.

"Do you like our sister?" George asked, again, pointedly.

Harry took a deep breath then, calling upon his Gryffindor bravery once again said, "Yes." Dead silence met this answer, and he hastened to continue. "Yes, I do. I'm sorry, but—well, actually, no, I'm not sorry, but what I mean is that… yes, I like her, but, please don't kill me."

Not exactly eloquent, but it got the point across, Harry thought. He looked at the three boys in front of him, waiting for their reaction.

"Are you telling me," Fred began slowly.

"That after all this time," George continued.

"You finally like our baby sister back?" Fred finished.

"Erm…" Harry said. "Well, yes, I suppose I am. Telling you that."

The twins grinned simultaneously and then whooped loudly, cheering and clapping.

"It's about time, mate!" Fred said.

"Always knew you'd like her one day, Harry, how could you not?" George asked.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, a grin on his face as well, "How could I not?" He turned to Ron then, who was still silent. "Ron?"

Ron looked at him grumpily. "You really like her?" Ron asked him.

"Yeah, Ron, I really do," Harry assured him.

Ron huffed for a moment before saying grudgingly, "Better you than anyone else, mate."

Harry grinned and thumped Ron on the shoulder. "Thanks, mate."

"You do know, though," George said, "that if you hurt her--"

"Even in the tiniest way--" Ron interjected.

"That you will have five--" George said.

"Possibly six--" Fred filled in.

"Weasley brothers on your arse so quickly you won't realize what hit you, correct?"

Harry gulped before saying, "Yeah, I know. And I wouldn't hurt her. I won't."

"You'd better not," all three boys chorused.

Harry laughed breathlessly, his nerves still racing both from his almost-kiss with Ginny and from his potentially deadly encounter with the Weasley brothers.

"Right," he said. "So now I really am going to bed. Night, all."

"Night, Harry," they said.

In bed a few hours later, Harry had no reason to fear nightmares. He was wide awake, thinking about Ginny. He had almost kissed her. _He_ had almost kissed _her_. He had almost _kissed_ her. Had he almost kissed her? Yes, he had. And if he had, it would have been good. Better than good. Amazing. He knew it. Not wet and sad like his rather disastrous kiss with Cho had been, but fiery and alive, just like everything was with Ginny, and dear Merlin, he liked everything about her. He liked her laugh, and her snarky sense of humor, and her confidence, and oh…god… her hair…

By morning, Harry had worked himself into a frenzy. What if last night, she had been about to push him away? What if Harry confessed that he liked her and she didn't like him back? Her brothers last night seemed to have thought that she did, in fact, like him, but what if she didn't? What if he made a fool of himself? Worse than that, how could he bear seeing her everywhere—in the common room, at the Gryffindor table, on the Quidditch pitch—and know that she didn't like him, and that he couldn't kiss her any time he wanted?

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked from beside him as they entered the common room.

Harry jumped. "What? Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said distractedly, eyes darting around the common room nervously.

Ron chuckled beside him. "Hermione, where's Ginny?" He asked the girl standing next to him.

Hermione grinned knowingly. "Already at breakfast, I think. Let's go."

The walk down to the Great Hall was simultaneously the longest and fastest walk of Harry's life. He was either walking to his execution or his… his… something incredible. Harry didn't know what the hell he was going to do… he was going to talk to her, obviously, but he had no idea what to say and he wanted to talk to her _now_, because he was dying…

And then he saw her. Sitting down the table next to Neville, laughing at something he had said and Harry's chest filled simultaneously with jealousy and fierce joy, and then they were walking towards her and Harry just had to sit next to her, he had to talk to her now or at least set up a time at which they could talk… he was burning up from the inside…

Ron and Hermione were settling down next to him as he sat next to Ginny, and he tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention, to make her look at him and focus on him and only him… and when she turned around he was looking into her eyes which widened in surprise and she blushed slightly. _'I have to talk to her…'_ Harry thought desperately.

"Harry, hi," Ginny said.

And Harry sealed his lips over hers. She made a surprised sound in the back of her throat but then she was kissing him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and _kissing him back_, and Harry put his arms around her waist and tugged her closer as he kissed her and whistles and catcalls broke out across the room but he didn't care, because he was finally, finally, kissing Ginny.

A loud click and a flash of light burned across his eyelids and he and Ginny broke apart, but Harry kept his forehead pressed against hers as he said breathlessly "Send that to the press, Colin, and I'll hurt you."

"Got it," Colin squeaked.

"But send me a copy," Ginny piped up, grinning at him. She then turned to Harry and murmured, "Took you long enough."

Harry grinned back at her and kissed her again, still smiling against her lips, before pulling back slightly and saying, "I'm notoriously thick-headed, haven't you heard? Sorry. Forgive me?"

Ginny lifted her eyes skyward and made a humming noise in the back of her throat, pretending to think it over. "Mmm… okay," she said finally, "but only because you're fantastic at snogging," and then she kissed him again.

Sirius watched his godson tug Ginny closer as they kissed again, a broad smile across his face despite the small, painful tug at his heart that was forcing him to see Lily and James kissing at the Gryffindor table, her fiery hair standing in stark contrast to his black hair, instead of Ginny and Harry.

"Well," Sirius said, breaking himself out of his thoughts, "I guess we get to have the sex talk with Harry now, eh Rem?"

"'We?'" Remus asked back dubiously. "You're his godfather, Padfoot, I think that duty lies with you."

Sirius looked about to protest, but then he laughed aloud and said, "You bet your furry arse I'm his godfather, Remmie. And that is one conversation that I can make _very_ entertaining."

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End Chapter 18. Stay tuned for Chapter 19, it will be up eventually. Please review, and feel more than welcome to let me know what you thought of _Deathly Hallows _as well; none of my friends are Harry Potter fanatics (blaspheme!) and I am eager to hear if the rest of the fandom adored the book as much as I did. I have an inkling that's that case -grin- Health, wealth, and happiness to all!

Cheers,

Willow Ann


	20. Chapter 19

A/N: Hello everyone! I present to you Chapter 19. A bit shorter than previous chapters, but only because I want to save some for Chapter 20, which with a bit of luck will be up soon. I hope you enjoy! Love as always goes out to my wonderful beta, aerohead1980.

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Remus stood up from his desk and stretched his arms over his head, groaning softly as the vertebrae in his back popped back into alignment. He took his glasses off and dropped them lazily onto the desk, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he shifted his weight onto his left hip. The full moon was in a few days' time, but he could already feel the weary, cold ache settling into his joints and his right hip had started protesting in earnest a few hours ago. He had settled into his desk chair after classes had ended and hadn't quite had the motivation to leave it before now, as Sirius had taken to making odd shuffling and banging noises in their common room. Remus was, by now, used to this kind of behavior from his friend and he steadfastly ignored it for quite some time, but he was now determined to harass Sirius until he agreed to discuss hinkypunks and grindylows. He reached out and grabbed his favorite mug from his desktop, refilling it with fresh, steaming tea that made him groan in appreciation as the hot liquid seemed to ease some of the stiffness from his body.

Remus opened his door slowly with a foot and elbow combination, carefully balancing some lesson plans in one hand and his tea in the other, but in the end he needn't have been so careful as he promptly dropped both his tea and his parchments in shock as he stepped into his common room and saw just exactly what Sirius had been doing for the past few hours. The lights had been lowered to a dim, flickering level, casting shadows that were a deep red rather than black. Gold silken curtains adorned their window, and the floor was littered with red and white flower petals. Two small figurines were kissing passionately atop the mantelpiece, and on the couch two mostly real people were giving each other looks so sultry that even Remus could feel a blush beginning to form on his cheeks. Feeling suddenly awkward, he averted his eyes and shifted his gaze onto his bookshelf—a seemingly safe place to look—before he realized that his copy of _365 Ways to Get Away: An Escape for Everyday_ had been replaced with _A New Position Every Day! 365 Positions for the Sexual Explorer. _And oh, Merlin, it was right next to _How to Keep Your Witch Bewitched, Wand Polishing Techniques: What Olivander Never Told You, _and _How to Make Your Witch Your Bit—_

"SIRIUS!" Remus exclaimed, completely scandalized. "What the hell have you done to our common room?"

"Common room?" Sirius asked, grinning as he pointed his wand at the ceiling. "What common room? You have just entered _The Marauders' Den of Debauchery_!" As he said this he thrust his arms out dramatically and flicked his wand, wolf whistling as a tall, leggy blonde appeared out of the tip wearing nothing but a pair of heels and a ridiculously short skirt, holding a sign over her significantly busty, naked chest that read "Marauders' Den of Debauchery" in red loopy letters.

Sirius sidled over to him and leaned into him secretively, whispering suggestively into his ear, "I put her on the ceiling because you can see up her skirt. See?" Another flick of Sirius' wand, a hand under his chin, and suddenly Remus could personally vouch for the validity of Sirius' statement.

Remus yanked his chin free and said, "Merlin, Sirius, what the bloody hell are you thinking? _'Den of Debauchery'_?"

Sirius gazed at him wide eyed, looking vaguely disappointed. "You don't like it? Originally it was Sirius' House of Sex, but then I thought that's hardly fair—you live here too. And I really love alliteration, it rolls of the tongue in such a spectacular manner and I thought it fitting seeing as how the tongue really can do some truly spectacular things. And den? Get it? Canines?" Sirius waggled a finger between the two of them then, but at Remus' blank look he huffed indignantly and said, "Well, I think it's terribly clever."

"Yet somehow, 'clever' is not the word that comes to mind," Remus said dryly, giving the couple on the couch a withering look as the boy's hand started to creep slowly up the girl's skirt as he kissed her. He cleared his throat at them pointedly and they looked up at him, startled, and the boy quickly removed his hand but resumed kissing the girl just as quickly at Sirius' indignant protest.

"Don't interrupt them!" Sirius scolded, and Remus looked at him incredulously. "They're not even real!" He exclaimed.

Sirius waved his hand in a don't-bother-me-with-insignificant-details manner before saying smugly, "Come on, Remmie, this is fabulous, you have to admit."

"I have to admit nothing, you absolute wanker," Remus said, stalking over to the bookshelf and removing the books one by one.

"Well actually, the goal here is to _not_ be a wanker, and hey! Put those back!" Sirius strode over and started taking the books out of Remus' arms one by one, mirroring Remus' actions in a backwards fashion and placing one back on the shelf for every one Remus took off. Remus growled as Sirius placed the last book back on the shelf and he quickly darted a hand out to grab it back off.

"This one's degrading!" he said vehemently.

"It is not!" Sirius replied, offended. "I'll have you know that I learned everything I know about sex from those books and I am the epitome of gentlemanliness, so therefore the book cannot be degrading."

Remus raised a skeptical eyebrow at Sirius and said, "Really."

"Really!" Sirius said.

"Right," Remus nodded, and opened to a random page in the book and read through its contents quickly, before looking at Sirius and dead-panning, "You really think Ginny will swoon and praise Harry's romantic prowess when he says, 'Baby, I want to make you my bitch.'"

Sirius paused thoughtfully for a moment before replying, "No, I suppose you're right. I don't think she'd like that very much." He paused again here for a moment before saying matter-of-factly, "But some women are very into that type of thing. Dominance and submission, you know?"

Remus blinked at him for a moment before saying, "You are a truly appalling human being. God made a mistake when he gave you a penis."

Sirius guffawed loudly at this and said, "Au contraire, Monsieur Moony, but I know several women who would beg to differ with that statement of yours." He then eyed their armchair for a moment before smirking deviously and waving his wand at it almost lazily, watching happily as another couple materialized out of no where and began snogging each other enthusiastically, the girl completely astride her male counterpart.

"Sirius!" Remus exclaimed. "Stop it!"

"Don't look so scandalized, Remus, you know you've done it," Sirius said shrewdly, flicking his wand again and humming along lowly as slow, lazy jazz began to play throughout the room.

"Well of course I have, I wasn't a marauder for nothing," Remus said peevishly, "but the difference between my sexual prowess and yours is that I didn't have to woo my women with cheap seduction tricks."

"Remus, if that were even remotely true, you'd have been laid a lot more," Sirius replied calmly, completely unfazed by Remus' barb. Remus sighed to himself inwardly. They knew each other too well, he supposed, because Sirius was right—Remus hadn't had nearly as many girls as Sirius had in their youth, and Sirius' complete lack of reaction to Remus' would-be insult meant that Sirius not only knew he was right, but he also knew that Remus was only lashing out because he was uncomfortable and feeling terribly old. A few moments ago he had been pondering the seemingly constant throb of pain in his hip, and he realized now that he had forgotten that his hips—and a certain area of his anatomy closely associated with his hips—used to ache and throb for reasons completely different than the full moon.

Remus sighed. "You're going to give him an aneurism, you know."

"I know," Sirius replied. "But once he recovers, he'll ask questions. You'll see."

Twenty minutes later, Remus stood just inside the open doorway of their rooms, listening to Sirius trying his hardest to persuade Harry into coming back inside their rooms from which he'd fled in horror after two seconds, his face bright red and eyes nearly wider than the frames surrounding them.

"—just take two seconds, I promise you'll like it—" Sirius' voice said.

"No! Absolutely not! There were people just—I mean—on your _couch_! And your _mantelpiece_! And your _chair_!" Harry's voice, sounding more than a bit scandalized.

"See! You can't even say it! You obviously need my help concerning this particular bit of your education," Sirius stated.

"Say what?" Harry asked, playing dumb as he stalled for time.

"Sex!" Sirius' voice said, probably louder than Harry would have preferred.

"I can to say it!" Harry protested.

"Fine," Sirius' voice challenged. "Say it then."

Remus sniggered into the silence that followed.

"I… I just… oh, alright… S—mmph. Se—ich," Harry stuttered, and then… "Hey! Stop laughing! It's not funny!"

Sirius laughed harder. "It is to funny! You're a sixteen year old boy that can say Voldemort and not sex. That's funny!"

"Is not!" Harry said, rather petulantly, and Remus had to move forward to see his expression because he could picture the face Harry would have made if he were still only a year old… and Remus' heart at once clenched painfully and sighed in relief as he saw that yes, it was still the same look—the same crinkle between the eyebrows that Lily had had and James' pout that looked at once adorable and misplaced over his strong jaw… The familiarity of those features tugged at the ever-present, hated anguish that had been inside Remus' chest for fifteen years but reassured him that if Harry could still keep that same face, that same face he had made as a baby after all the horrible things he had been through… that maybe they, too, would get through this war with a little bit of themselves still in tact.

Sirius' laughter had subsided long moments ago, and Remus also knew the look that was coming over _his_ face: the look that said he loved Harry so much he'd go to the end of the world and back again to make him happy, to keep him safe and healthy and smiling for the rest of eternity. _'Come to think of it,'_ Remus thought, _'he's probably gone to the end of the world and back again already, to get back to him.'_ Sirius hadn't told Remus what had happened in the twelve days he had been gone, either—he said right from the start he wouldn't tell anyone and hadn't yet—but from the number of nights that Remus had to wake Sirius up from violent nightmares, thrashing and convulsing as every muscle in his body tensed up with terror, Remus knew that Sirius would only go through whatever it was he had gone through for Harry, and that he had only fought so hard and so long for Harry, and that he would only continue fighting this war for Harry.

Remus had been upset, at first—jealous even—when he realized that Sirius fought death for Harry, not for him. They had never spoken about it, but Remus knew—he knew Sirius had come back for Harry. And then Remus had realized that if Sirius had given up—if he had let himself be taken by whatever was behind that Veil and he had died—Remus would not have been mad at him. He would have mourned him, missed him so badly every day that he could barely breathe or function, but he would not have been mad at him. He would have forgiven him, because he knew with no small amount of certainty that if he were to die tomorrow, some small part of him would be relieved, and he would welcome not death, but the end of the long, painful struggle that had been his life. Remus could understand that Sirius would be happier that way, reunited with James and Lily and no longer fighting a losing battle to keep the pain and darkness away; Remus could understand why on some small level, Sirius would prefer death than life; he understood, and Sirius knew he understood. But Harry… Harry didn't understand why Sirius wouldn't fight to live, wouldn't fight to stay with him because Harry was always fighting; fighting everyday to live and he would always keep fighting. If Sirius hadn't fought to come back himself then Harry would have fought for him—would have kept fighting and fighting until he killed himself with exhaustion and grief. Sirius had come back for Harry, because Harry would have come back for him. Because Harry, unlike Remus, never would have forgiven him for giving up; never would have forgiven him for leaving when he needed him the most.

Remus was yanked out of his thoughts as Sirius nudged him with an elbow as he marched Harry back into the room, hands on his shoulders propelling him forward as Harry tried to drag his feet.

'You alright?' Sirius mouthed at him. Remus gave him a small smile, watching the life dancing behind those blue eyes, and nodded. Yes, he was alright. Sirius had come _back_, no matter why, so yes. He was alright.

"Sirius, really," Harry pleaded, voice tight. "Do we have to do this? I know about… about it. Really, I do. I live in a dorm with Ron and he has five brothers—believe me, I know about it."

"I know you know about it, but do you know how to do it properly? And safely, for that matter?" Sirius asked pointedly.

Remus snorted. "You know, most of the time it's the safety bit that's asked first."

"I said the safety bit first!" Sirius switched seamlessly. When Remus merely raised his eyebrows at him, Sirius continued, "I did! Didn't I, Harry?"

Harry looked at Remus seriously and said, "He did, Remus, honest."

Remus chuckled and shook his head affectionately at the two of them; even crushing embarrassment couldn't stop Harry from defending Sirius. "What am I going to do with the both of you?" he muttered.

"Well, I don't know what you're going to do with me but I'm going to teach Harry about sex," Sirius said matter-of-factly. He then led Harry over to stand before the sofa, where the two conjured teenagers were still fiercely making out and sliding their hands into inappropriate places. Harry was already burning a steady pink color, his neck and cheeks permanently flushed. When Sirius flicked his wand and vanished the clothing off of the two now grinding figures, Harry's balance wavered. He opened his mouth to either protest or vomit from mortification, but before he could do either Sirius was speaking.

"Right, now, you see—the broomstick goes in the goal hoop—right there, see? And you have to be really careful handling the Quaffles but they're really quite nice, and the girls love it when you do so always keep that in mind but knowing you, you'll go straight for her snitch--"

"Oh, god," Harry squeaked. "I can't do this."

"Of course you can!" Sirius said, misinterpreting him. "It's completely natural."

Harry turned to stare at him incredulously, face now blushing bright enough to rival a Weasley, and Remus sighed and took pity on him.

"Finite Incantatem," he whispered, and all of the nearly-copulating couples, half naked women, flower petals, silken curtains, sultry music, and oddly colored shadows disappeared and righted themselves, leaving the room in it's normal, common-room-ish state.

"Remus!" Sirius exclaimed. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because Harry's about to die from embarrassment and then he'll never be able to have sex because he'll be dead," Remus said dryly, walking over to the bookcase. He pulled out a few of the books he had previously protested and gave Sirius a good humored glare as he muttered, "One point to you for conjuring these, even if you did lose a million for nearly killing your godson with the rest of it."

"Read these," he said then, handing the books to Harry, "and ask us later if you have questions."

Harry sagged in relief, looking at Remus gratefully. "Okay," he said, voice meek as he accepted the books and quickly shoved them out of sight into his bag. "Thanks."

Remus smiled at him kindly. "You're welcome, Harry."

Sirius sighed next to him. "Point to you, Remus, for being right about the aneurism."

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An hour later, Sirius and Harry were seated comfortably on the couch before the fireplace and Remus had settled himself into his favorite armchair, his newly repaired mug back in his hand and full of tea. After Harry had recovered from Sirius' attempted sex talk, the three of them had fallen into easy conversation, discussing lesson plans and classes and Quidditch. It had become somewhat of a routine for them—chatting amiably by the fire a few nights a week. At first, Harry had been hesitant about coming to Sirius and Remus' living quarters—Harry's living quarters, too, they kept reminding him—but as the days had gone by Harry had taken to popping around quite a bit, usually in the evenings before bedtime. Sirius always went to bed happier on nights that Harry came round, a small, contented smile on his face that he seemed to save just for his godson, with the left corner of his mouth lifted just slightly higher than the right.

Remus smiled softly to himself at the thought—Sirius' grin had always been slightly crooked; it had added to his devilish charm when he was a teen, always the most pronounced in the middle of a good prank or conversation with James, sometimes even with Remus. Remus had never told Sirius about it, because it was one of the few secrets he kept that enabled him to read his friend so well—Sirius' fake smiles had always been straight, and real ones were crooked. When Sirius had boarded the Hogwarts Express before sixth year, seemingly normal except for his pin-straight smile, Remus had known immediately that something had gone terribly wrong at the House of Black, and he had been right—they had almost killed him that summer. When he ran away later that year, no one who knew him well had been surprised. But after that, that crooked smile became something only James, Remus, Peter, and later Lily saw frequently; it was a sign of Sirius' trust in them, that he let his guard down enough to smile at them like that. Peter never really understood the gift he had been given, but James, Lily, and Remus had always taken special efforts after that to get Sirius to smile that roguish grin he had become so famous for. Remus always felt a bit warmer when Sirius was smiling like that, because it meant that at that one moment, every molecule of his being was content. Now, after death and war and imprisonment, that smile was rare. Remus loved Harry all the more for his ability to coax it out of Sirius every time he was around.

Remus shook himself out of his thoughts, looking over at his two companions. The room had fallen into a sated sort of silence that seemed infused with warmth, seeming to wrap around them tenderly as they sat together. Remus' eyes had just started to droop when Harry's voice spoke softly into the room.

"You look tired," Harry murmured, eyes studying Sirius intently. Sirius' gaze turned away from the fire and onto his godson, and Remus smiled as the left side of Sirius' mouth tugged itself upwards before he spoke.

"Don't worry about me, kiddo," Sirius said, voice slightly lower from disuse after the long silence. Harry's gaze sharpened, and Remus could see the muscles in his shoulders visibly rise up as they tightened. Remus sat up a little bit higher in his chair and noticed Sirius do the same, obviously recognizing the change as well.

"Of course I worry," Harry said shortly, snapping at him just slightly. Understanding dawned immediately in Sirius' eyes, and he reached out towards Harry but pulled it back again in acceptance when Harry shied away from it with a small sound of protest.

"Harry," Sirius said, comforting, but Harry stopped him.

"Don't," Harry said, still short, "don't you dare tell me not to worry," Harry's eyes were locked with Sirius', and Sirius felt something inside of his chest tighten harshly as he watched the sharpness in Harry's eyes fade only to be replaced by a quiet kind of desperation. "Don't you dare," Harry repeated, softly.

"Okay," Sirius breathed, nodding his head. "Okay." Sirius held Harry's gaze until Harry turned his head away, cheeks flushing slightly as he seemed to deflate, slumping into the cushions behind him.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Don't apologize," Sirius interrupted. "You've nothing to apologize for."

When Harry merely nodded but didn't look back up, Sirius scooted closer to him on the couch and put his fingers under Harry's chin, raising his head until they were eye to eye.

"Hey," he murmured. "You don't need to apologize for looking out for me. I'll get a better night's sleep tonight, yeah?"

It was true, Remus knew; the nightmares were always gentler and later in coming on nights that Harry came round. Harry studied Sirius for a moment, eyes troubled, before smiling slightly and nodding. "Yeah," Harry replied before tugging his chin gently out of Sirius' hand.

Sirius frowned slightly, looking at his godson's profile as Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the couch. Harry had tolerated Sirius' displays of affection while he was in the hospital wing, and for a short amount of time right after it, understanding that the contact with the other was something they both craved in the wake of their separation, their reunion, and their constant worry for the other. Harry had never initiated such contact, but he had allowed it and reveled in it when it came. But now, a few weeks later, it seemed as though Harry thought that grace period—that time when affection was allowed and needed—was over. Sirius knew that Harry had always been uncomfortable with people touching him—growing up with people who despised him, who Sirius suspected only touched him to hurt him, had made him wary of people touching him at all. Sirius understood this feeling well, as he was the same way; but Sirius, at least, let the people he trusted touch him. It seemed as if Harry was trying to push himself away, to distance himself somehow, and to say it worried Sirius was an understatement.

Sirius leaned back, still studying Harry closely. Although he was seemingly relaxed once again, Sirius noticed that his face was still slightly pinched around the mouth and eyes, his shoulders not quite as relaxed as they had been before. So many of Harry's movements were laced with a quiet kind of anxiousness, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to hold him until it melted away and he felt safe and calm. Sirius sighed to himself; he couldn't do that for Harry yet, not until Harry let him, but for now he could try something else. With a small _pop!_ Sirius changed into Padfoot and lay down, inching his way towards Harry slowly on his belly. When he got close enough, he laid his head down on Harry's knee, one paw across it as well. Sirius had noticed that while Harry wouldn't let his godfather comfort him, he often accepted it from Padfoot. While it was not Sirius' ideal solution, he was glad that he was, in some way, able to give his godson the comfort he so desperately needed.

Harry picked up his head and looked down at the dog, who looked back up at him with expressive blue eyes. Remus watched as Harry slowly sunk a hand into the fur behind Padfoot's ears, and chuckled fondly when the dog started snuffling softly in contentment. As Remus watched the two of them on the couch, comforting and supporting each other as best as they knew how, Remus thought that maybe—maybe, the three of them could be the family that both Sirius and Harry had been missing for so long.

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A/N: That's it for now- please review! I'll give you a challenge: I'm at 505 reviews right now; if there are 520 reviews by this Friday- February 22nd- I'll post Chapter 20 a week from today on Sunday the 24th. Think you're up to it?

-Willow Ann


	21. Chapter 20

A/N: Wow. I am absolutely overwhelmed by the response to my challenge! It actually blew me away. Thank you so much for reading, and for your support; the 420 mark had actually been hit within a few hours of the chapter being posted. Love goes as always to my beta aerohead1980, as she had to do speed-beta-ing to help me get this up on time. So, as promised, here is Chapter 20. I hope you enjoy it!

Xoxo,

Willow Ann

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Harry woke on Saturday morning to feel fingers raking gently through his hair; he pushed his head closer to the hand and quirked up one corner of his lips as the sensation sent light shivers down his spine. Soft hair was tickling his neck, bringing with it a slight fragrance of wild flowers. Soon his lips were being covered softly with another pair and he found himself laughing lowly against Ginny's mouth, attempting to kiss her and smile at the same time.

"Good morning," he ended up murmuring, lips brushing hers with each word.

"Morning," she replied brightly, pulling away just enough to look at him properly. She was sitting on the side of his bed, leaning over him with one arm propped next to his side. "Sleep well?"

"The waking up part was more enjoyable, actually," he replied, grinning at her and taking her hand, tugging her down gently until she was lying down beside him. Once she was pressed up snuggly against his side he drew his arms around her and buried his nose in her hair, breathing her in.

"How're you?" he questioned, not at all inclined to move for the rest of the day.

"Peachy keen, thanks," she said. "How was your visit with Sirius and Remus last night?"

Harry was blushing before she had even finished her sentence, coloring from the neck up. "Scarring," he replied shortly.

Ginny tilted her head up to look at him and laughed at the expression on his face. "Scarring?" she asked lightly, "He didn't prank you without me there, did he?"

Harry mock scowled at her before answering sullenly, "No."

"Well whatever it was must have been good if you're still blushing the day after," Ginny teased, tapping his nose lightly with one finger.

"Not good," Harry corrected. "Mortifying. He… had some rather _inventive_ ideas on how I should go about engaging in… certain activities with you." Harry was mumbling by the time he finished his sentence, avoiding Ginny's eyes even as she laughed.

"Oh, please," she begged, "tell me he didn't have the sex talk with you!"

Harry's response was to bury his head underneath the covers.

"He did!" Ginny crowed gleefully before bursting into hysterical laughter. "Oh, that's fabulous. Well then, I bet 'inventive' doesn't even begin to cover it." She paused for a moment before saying thoughtfully, "Although, he probably gives good advice on that topic. I hear he had quite the reputation when he was at Hogwarts; all the Marauders did, for that matter."

"Ginny!" Harry cried, sounding slightly muffled beneath the covers but still vaguely disgusted all the same. "That's my godfather you're talking about! And Remus!"

"Don't forget your parents, too," Ginny added.

Harry's response was a slight groan. "Change of subject, please," he said meekly.

Ginny laughed lightly and tugged the covers off him then, prodding him slightly with her fingers. "Get out of bed, then, let's go eat."

"Right," Harry said, pulling himself out of his bed and grabbing some clean clothes to change into.

"I'll meet you in the common room in five minutes," Ginny said over her shoulder as she exited his dormitory, leaving Harry to dress. After Harry had brushed his teeth and changed, he walked over to his trunk and pulled out the list containing the names of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He rummaged around for a quill and ink briefly before looking at the list again, still one member short. He had held off on announcing the team members probably a bit longer than was expected, but he had spent the extra time agonizing over who to place in the remaining Chaser position. Jeff Tucker and Ann Mitchell were nearly evenly matched; each had their individual strengths, and Harry had gone back and forth between the two so often that his head had started to spin in circles whenever he thought about it. He looked at the list for a moment longer before taking a deep breath and scribbling the last name down on the parchment before walking down into the common room. He saw Ginny sitting in a chair by the fire and waved her over to him. She caught sight of the list in his hand as she approached him and gasped loudly.

"Finally!" she said, voice sounding anxious. She waited for a moment when Harry merely looked at her and then said, "Well? Post it up!"

"Right," Harry said, shaking himself slightly and turning to the side wall and placing a sticking charm on the back of the parchment before pressing it neatly against the stone, watching it fasten itself there without hassle. He felt Ginny hurry up beside him and then was rendered momentarily deaf by the squeal she let out.

"Yes!" she yelled, grinning widely before throwing herself into Harry's arms and hugging him tightly.

He laughed at her exuberance and murmured, "You had nothing to worry about; you're a brilliant flyer."

"Hearing it and seeing it are two different things, Harry," she replied, looking at him with her face flushed in happiness. "Oh, wait til Ron sees!" she said then. "He'll be thrilled."

Harry grinned back at her and nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I've been hinting that he got the position since trials, but he hasn't seemed to have gotten them. Typical Ron."

Ginny laughed and then said, "Of course. Well, everyone is at breakfast—let's go eat before people realize the list is up and start mobbing you with questions about the season."

"Sounds good to me, I'm starved," Harry said, and realized that for the first time in months, it was completely true. While his nightmares still hadn't gone away, Sirius' return had also brought back Harry's appetite; he was slowly getting used to eating regularly again, but he was not quite prepared for the looks of relief he saw in his friends' eyes as he did so. Harry blinked, breaking himself away from that chain of thought.

As they entered the Great Hall Harry and Ginny quickly caught site of Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor Table and made their way over to them, sitting beside them and helping themselves to the array of breakfast foods set out before them. Ginny stole a platter of eggs from Ron and said, "Do try to take smaller bites, Ronald, I'd hate for you to choke. Also, congratulations on making the Quidditch team."

Ron promptly choked. Hermione pounded him on the back as he coughed, spraying food everywhere before saying loudly, "THE QUIDDITCH RESULTS ARE UP?"

His exclamation naturally caught the attention of everyone at the Gryffindor Table and there was a moment of stillness before people all around the table were leaping out of their seats and bolting for the common room. Ron, despite having been told that he had already made the team, was one of them. Hermione blinked at his empty seat for a moment before shaking her head and muttering, "Boys."

Harry grinned at the familiarity of her exasperation and was overwhelmed with sudden fondness for her and Ron. "You know you love us, 'Mione," he teased.

She grinned at him ruefully and said, "Merlin help me, I do."

Harry laughed and helped himself to some bacon. As he did so he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to see Ann Mitchell staring at him with a pale face from a few seats down the table. He looked at her for a moment before winking at her cheekily and nodding his head toward the doors of the Great Hall. "Go check that list," he said in a playfully stern voice. Her eyes widened and hope filled her face before her stunned motionlessness ended and she too bolted out of the Great Hall. Harry chuckled at her retreating form.

"She's going to be good on the team," he said to Ginny.

"I agree," she said. "I wondered who you'd picked—I had hoped it would be her. She's small, but she works well with us."

"I know," Harry replied. "We'll have to work out some maneuvers to protect her, I think; the Slytherins are going to go after her because they'll think she's an easy target—we need to head that off before it even starts."

"Do you have ideas yet?" Ginny asked.

"A few," Harry replied, grinning mischievously.

Ginny looked at him curiously and was about to question him further when a voice from behind them said, "Move over, wench, you're hogging my godson."

Ginny turned and somehow managed to look down her nose at Sirius despite her seated position. "I rather think it's you, scoundrel, that tends to hog my boyfriend with late night meetings."

They mocked glared at each other for a moment before breaking out into laughter, and Harry found himself for the second time that breakfast reveling in the sensations of happiness and affection he felt for the people around him.

"Hey, _Professor_," he greeted, grinning. "What's up?"

"Nothing, nothing," Sirius said easily, "No, don't get up," he said to Ginny when she actually did make to move over and give him space to sit next to Harry. "I just came by to ask—Harry, will you come by later today? I've both something to discuss with you and a hankering to see you."

"You've a 'hankering' to see me?" Harry asked, amused. "Well in that case I most certainly will drop by. Any time?"

Sirius nodded. "Any time you like. We'll be around."

"Okay," Harry agreed. "Quidditch results just went up, so I'm thinking we'll end up flying around the pitch a bit together, but after that?"

"So that's what just happened over here? Quidditch results? You'd think someone slipped them all laxatives," Sirius joked. "Although, there was that one time during sixth year--"

"Oh, gross!" Hermione cut him off. "Please. I'm eating. Keep your scatological stories for any other time, please?"

Sirius grinned at her and said, "Sure thing, Hermione. Alright then, Harry, see you later."

"See you," Harry said, watching him walk off towards the staff table and take his seat next to Remus. He turned his head when he felt eyes staring into the side of his head.

"What?" he questioned Hermione, who had been looking at him intently.

"Nothing," she said quickly, turning back to her breakfast.

Harry raised his eyebrows at her but said nothing, knowing that she would come out and say whatever it was she was thinking precisely when she wanted to. Hermione had always been that way; forming ideas early on, but never revealing them until she was convinced she could find out no further information and they were exactly as she wanted them to be. Harry found comfort in her consistency, and knew that whatever it was she was thinking would reveal itself in due time.

"Let's venture back into the common room— I really would like to just fly a bit with the team today. Think they'd be up for it?" he asked Ginny.

"Up for it?" she asked, slightly incredulous and already nudging him and Hermione out of their seats and towards the common room. "Of course we'll be up for it!"

When they reached the common room, they found the other members of the team sitting together around the fire, large smiles on their faces. Harry looked around the rest of the room; he felt vaguely guilty as he saw a few crest-fallen faces, but his confidence grew as he switched his gaze back to his team—they were going to fly brilliantly together, he knew.

He walked over to the assembled group and grinned at them. "Welcome to the Gryffindor Quidditch team," he said.

Cheers went up, and he chuckled happily. "Is everyone free right now? I thought it'd be fun to fly together today, get to know one another as people and as players."

After a mixture of nods and murmured agreements, he said, "Alright, then. The twins won't be here today—they're part-time students so they're not here weekends usually—but--" Harry was interrupted by a loud _whoosh_, and he turned around to face the fireplace and saw two identical redheads stepping out of it.

"Hey now, Captain, don't go giving your team the wrong information," Fred said cheekily.

"We're quite here, and ready to fly," George added.

Harry laughed at them incredulously. "How did you--?"

George rolled his eyes. "It's _Hogwarts_, Harry. Word travels fast."

"You don't even live here!" Harry protested.

"Ah, but that doesn't mean we don't have ears here, mate," Fred said cryptically.

Harry's brows shot up, and he made a mental note to ask the twins about that later.

"Right, then," he said. "Everyone get their brooms and let's go!"

The walk down to the pitch was loud and exuberant, the members of the team laughing and bickering back and forth, the four Weasley's occasionally rough housing with each other. Amidst the commotion Harry was able to situate himself next to Ann Mitchell, who was walking with her broom gripped tightly in one hand and was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Thanks for letting me on the team," she said, half-shyly, but there was a large smile plastered across her face.

"I didn't let you on, you earned your way on," he told her frankly. "You're good."

She looked up at him with big, incredulous eyes, and Harry found himself smiling down at her. "It's true," he reiterated.

She blinked at him for a moment before saying reverently, "Thanks."

Harry shrugged. "I do want to work with you separately, though; you're good, but you're also small, which means you'll be targeted. I don't want the other teams picking on you for your size, so we're going to work together to make sure you can out-fly them if they decide to try something nasty. That sound okay?"

She nodded enthusiastically and said, "Yes, sir."

Harry looked at her again, amused. "I thought I told you to call me Harry."

She looked momentarily chagrined before saying, "Right."

A few minutes later they were in the air over the pitch, flying easily with one another, and Harry couldn't help but think that this was going to be the best Quidditch season yet.

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Six o'clock that evening found Harry walking easily through the castle corridors, making his way towards Sirius and Remus' quarters. Flying with the team that morning had been even better than Harry had expected; the players flew seamlessly with one another, and all the old players were already growing fond and protective of Ann. Harry had left them in the common room gathered around the fireplace, coming up with various maneuvers and skills for both Ann and themselves to work on in order to keep her small size from being an issue during matches. Harry smiled to himself slightly; placing her on the team had been the right decision.

Harry reached the portrait that guarded Sirius and Remus' rooms and gave her the password quickly, hearing it thump closed behind him softly as he walked into their chambers. He found Sirius seated on the couch, long legs sprawled out in front of him in a position that was now very familiar to Harry and he made his way forward, a grin on his face, but it quickly dropped away and his stomach turned to lead as he saw the tight, anxious expression on Sirius' face as he gazed unblinkingly into the fire.

"Sirius," Harry said, voice strained as he moved quickly over to the couch and sat down next to him. Sirius started, body twitching violently.

"Harry!" he said, voice surprised but a smile appearing on his face all the same. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Sirius, what is it?" Harry questioned, wanting desperately to erase the look of unease that was still lingering on Sirius' face.

Sirius regarded him silently for a moment before his smile went slightly crooked and he said quietly, "You know me too well, kid." He blew out a small puff of air through his nose, shaking his head fondly. "Just like your father. He could always tell right away when something was off."

"_Sirius_," Harry emphasized, feeling panic beginning to grip the edge of his senses as well.

"Hey, no, it's okay," Sirius soothed, recognizing immediately the change in Harry's voice. "_I'm_ okay," he amended, looking with concern at his godson as he leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands, letting out a sigh of relief. "There's just something that Dumbledore wants me to discuss with you."

"God, Sirius," Harry mumbled, his voice muffled. He then picked his head up and looked at Sirius over a hunched shoulder, eyes troubled and piercing in their intensity. "You can't scare me like that," he said, voice sounding slightly strangled.

Sirius stared back at him, blue eyes studying him closely and refusing to look away from a gaze that would have had anyone else turning away. He leaned forward then, bringing his face on the same level as Harry's and his voice was low and strained with agony when he spoke.

"Harry," he murmured, and then paused for a moment that became charged with silent, heavy tension. "I'll… never be able to express to you how sorry I am for hurting you. You know that, right? That I'm sorry, and I'll never hurt you again?"

Harry snapped his body around, looking at Sirius properly. "Sirius!" he said, taken aback. "Yes; God, yes, I know that," Harry rushed to assure him, hating the pain he heard in his godfather's voice and wanting nothing more than to make it _go away_. "Of course I know that now."

Sirius regarded him intently for a moment before sitting up and leaning forward, pressing a soft kiss to Harry's forehead. Sirius closed his eyes as he felt Harry stiffen, clearly fighting the urge to pull away. Sirius tilted his head to the side, so his cheek was pressed against Harry's temple and whispered roughly, "Then I need you to stop thinking at every turn that I'm going to leave you."

Harry froze against him, so completely that Sirius even heard his breath hitch and then stop for a moment, and then suddenly Harry was trembling slightly. He pulled away from Sirius enough to look him in the face, and Sirius felt his throat tighten at the expression on Harry's face.

"I—I don't think that, Sirius," he said, unsurely. "Really. I just—"

Sirius shook his head ruefully, cutting him off. "You do, Harry. I can see it—can see you pulling yourself away from me, because you're still expecting me to leave you. And it… it makes me all the more aware of how much I failed you, and I hate myself for it."

"Sirius, stop it!" Harry cried, desperate. "You didn't fail me! It's not… I don't do it on purpose, Sirius. Really, I just… I can't help it."

Sirius looked at him sadly, lips turning up in small, bitter smile. "That makes it worse," he said. He stopped for a moment, staring into the fire for long seconds before turning back to Harry. "Listen to me, Harry," he said intently, reaching out and taking Harry's hand in his. This time, Harry gripped his hand back. "I know I hurt you, and I regret it every second. But… I fought death for you, Harry. I fought it and I came back _for you_." Sirius' eyes were pleading and intense, dark with emotion. Harry felt his chest clench in painful surprise; that was the closest Sirius had ever come to discussing what had happened to him behind the Veil, and the haunted look that had taken over Sirius' eyes chilled Harry's bones and made him shiver in sympathy. "I need you to trust me," Sirius pleaded.

"I do," Harry whispered, squeezing Sirius' hand tightly, and in that moment any poisonously quiet, lingering doubts Harry had in Sirius unwound and fell away softly, leaving no trace of them behind. "I do."

Sirius closed his eyes tightly and nodded before dipping his head to press his lips to the back of Harry's hand. "Then trust in me when I say I won't leave you. You're never going to be without me again."

"Okay," Harry breathed. "I believe you."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sitting side by side on the couch and listening to the soft crackling and popping of the fire. Harry didn't take back his hand until Sirius let go of it, long moments later.

When he did so, Harry cleared his throat and asked, "So what's this Dumbledore wants you to discuss with me?"

Sirius looked at him sideways, grinning at him a bit. "Right. Back to what I was originally nervous about."

Harry chuckled and said, "What could you possibly have to be nervous about?"

Sirius sobered slightly and said, "You won't like it, Harry."

Harry looked at him, slightly weary and said, "It's okay, just tell me."

Sirius nodded then before saying plainly, "He wants you to take Occlumency lessons again."

There was silence for a few seconds, and Sirius was fully bracing himself to deal with an enraged Harry in a few moments' time. What he got from Harry instead, however, was a resigned sigh and a slight slumping of his shoulders.

"I imagined he might," he said quietly. "I thought I had gotten better, over the summer, but apparently not." He looked dejectedly at his knees as he said scornfully, "They're with Snape again, then?"

Sirius cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "Actually, no. They're with me."

Harry turned his head quickly to look at Sirius. "You?" he asked, surprised. "Why?"

Sirius blinked at him, trying to stamp down an unwanted sense of hurt. "Well, I could talk to Dumbledore if you'd rather have them with Snape, but--"

"Merlin, no!" Harry exclaimed, cutting him off. "No. I'd much rather have them with you, of course, I was just surprised is all. I didn't know you knew Occlumency."

Sirius' features were slightly shuttered as he replied, "Yes, well, I learned in fifth year. Dumbledore thought it might help protect me from my family."

Silence, for a moment, before Harry said hesitantly, "Did it?"

"No," Sirius answered shortly. "It didn't."

Harry didn't say anything, but moved slightly closer to Sirius on the couch until their shoulders were brushing slightly. Sirius turned his head a fraction and looked at his godson, taking him in fondly. "You got the best of both your parents, you know," he said quietly.

Harry looked at him. "Really?" he asked.

"Really," Sirius nodded.

Harry's smile was small, but it was one of the happiest Sirius had seen him wear.

"When do we start, then?" Harry said.

"Whenever you want," Sirius replied. "Soon, preferably. The sooner we start the safer you are."

_'And the safer he is,'_ Harry thought to himself, remembering with a chill the way Voldemort had manipulated his mind and led to Sirius' fall behind the Veil.

"Right," he said, determined. "How's tomorrow night?"

Sirius looked at him, surprised. "Tomorrow's fine."

"Good," Harry said, rising to his feet. "I'm going to go read, then, brush up on it."

"Read?" Sirius asked. "About Occlumency? You have books on Occlumency?"

Harry blinked at him for a moment before replying simply, "Yes. I ordered them."

"Right, then," Sirius said, a bit stunned. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Harry grinned. "See you tomorrow, then."

"See you," Sirius replied, watching him lope out into the hallway and listening until his footsteps retreated. There was silence in the room for a long moment before a voice spoke out from the shadows behind the couch.

"That was a hefty promise you made him, Sirius," Remus said lowly.

Sirius leapt off the couch, wand immediately in hand and a curse on his lips. "Bloody hell, Rem!" he exclaimed. "You scared the shit out of me."

Remus was leaning against his doorframe, arms crossed, hidden from immediate view by the shadows the fire had cast about the room. He ignored Sirius' statements and continued to look at his friend intently, a dark look upon his face.

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep," he said, voice foreboding. "It will only hurt him more in the end."

"Who says I can't keep it?" Sirius snarled, shifting quickly and easily from surprise to vicious fury. "I won't die!"

"You _will_ die," Remus told him flatly. "From old age if you're extremely fortunate, but it's more likely to happen sometime before the War is over."

Sirius didn't say anything but he looked at Remus blackly, drawing himself to his full height and drawing power up around him furiously. Red sparks flew out the tip of his wand and burned holes into the carpet, but both men ignored it.

"The War is here, Sirius. They're sheltering the students from it but it's here and it's coming. It will be at Hogwarts before the end of the year. How could you promise him you'll live through it? You could die and then he'll be devastated but also furious at you, and he'll do something stupid. That is if he lives through it at all, which he may not."

And then suddenly Sirius was in his face, their noses only a breath apart and Sirius was glaring at him furiously, looking as though he would love nothing more in the world than to rip him apart. "Shut up," he growled. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Remus' roughly, bruising. "I'm not leaving you either," he ground out.

And then instead of beating him up Sirius was holding him so tightly his ribs creaked and Remus was glad for it because his knees had just buckled and _Sweet Merlin, Sirius couldn't leave them again,_ and when Remus had worn himself out and Sirius finally fell into bed he dreamed of werewolves that howled at stags in the sky instead of moons and black shadow fingers that tried to sink him beneath the terrified moans of the undead.

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A/N: So, please review! I'm not promising another chapter in only a week, but the more you review the faster I'll update ;) Love and snuggles to all!


	22. Chapter 21

A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you all had a lovely holiday season and a festive, happy New Years! Here's a late New Years gift for you all. I hope you enjoy!

~Willow Ann

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"If you don't stop that," Remus said mildly, "I'll hex it off."

Sirius' leg stopped its restless bobbing abruptly, and the man attached to it let out an explosive sigh. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm nervous."

Remus closed his book and turned to observe his friend, taking in his long form that was, once again, sprawled out in front of him as he sat in the chair before the fireplace. Sirius' knee had been bouncing of it's own accord, a result of the anxiety that was clearly coursing through his friend.

"When's Harry coming?" Remus asked, wondering if perhaps Sirius aught to take a calming draught before his godson arrived.

"Dunno," Sirius responded. "He said sometime after dinner."

"Sirius!" Remus chastised. "We've only just had breakfast!"

"Yes, I'm aware, thank you," Sirius said sourly. He was still for a moment before he sighed again, defeated this time. "I'm sorry," he murmured. He looked up at Remus then, his gaze shuttered as he said, "It just brings back memories of my own that I'd rather not rethink."

Remus was quiet for a moment, his heart tight in his chest. "Well," he said gently, "it's a good thing it's Harry's memories you'll be delving into, then, and not your own."

"It very well could be mine that _he's_ delving into if he picks this up as quickly as he picks up everything else," Sirius said roughly. "I just don't want him to… see things he shouldn't."

Remus rubbed a hand over his face as he said, "He's already seen things he shouldn't, Sirius. He's seen things no one should see."

"I know that," he replied. "I don't want to add to that, any more than I already have done." His gaze was cast down, but Remus leaned forward and tilted his head so he could look up into Sirius' eyes, his golden ones piercing into blue.

"You blame yourself for too much, Sirius," Remus stated softly, firmly.

"I blame myself for exactly what I should," Sirius retorted, scorn etched into his voice.

There was silence in the room for a minute, the popping of the fire the only noise. Sirius broke it after a few moments, speaking slowly. "I'm going to hate the things I see inside his head. The way he was raised, with those awful Muggles. Memories that wouldn't exist if I had picked him over Peter the night James and Lily were…" he trailed off here, brooding. Remus felt gooseflesh rise up on his skin as a strange sense of foreboding fell into the pit of his stomach. "How could they pick me?" Sirius breathed, voice sounding awed and strangled all at once. "We're so similar."

Remus leaned forward, watching Sirius intently. "Look at me, Sirius," he commanded quietly. He waited until Sirius reluctantly dragged his gaze up to meet his, and then said lowly, "What is it you're really asking?"

Sirius sucked in a ragged, broken breath, and Remus lurched out of his seat to kneel beside Sirius' as he saw his friend's eyes shining with moisture.

"What if he turns out like me, Remy?" Sirius whispered, terrified.

Remus looked at him for a long moment, understanding sweeping through him. "Oh, Sirius," he replied quietly. "Then I'd say he turned out to be one of the best men anyone could ever hope to know."

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"Harry's drooling," Hermione stated flatly, her quill not pausing at all as she spoke.

"Huh?" Ron asked dully, picking his head up from the crook of his arm.

"Poke him!" Hermione commanded quietly.

Ron looked over at his best friend, only to find him fast asleep with his cheek pressed right against the desk, his mouth open and a small puddle of drool forming next to his notes. Before he could help it, Ron snorted.

"It's not funny," Hermione scolded. "We're in class."

"We're in _Binns'_ class," Ron corrected. "There's really no need to be awake for it. Everything he talks about has already happened, so what's done is done, eh?" With that, he plunked his head back on his arm and shut his eyes.

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione hissed, kicking him harshly under the table.

"Ow!" Ron yelped. Harry jerked awake, and Binns' paused in his lecture. "What was that for?" Ron's question echoed throughout the classroom.

Silence, then Binns said, "It was a donation of funds for the council that drafted the Goblin Treaty of 1498."

"…Right," Ron replied. "Yes. Goblin Treaty of 1498."

Binns resumed his lecture, and Ron sat still for a moment before turning a glare on Hermione.

"That hurt," he scowled.

"Poor baby," she replied snottily.

Harry raised his eyebrows at them. "What's going on?"

"I gallantly defended your right to sleep during History of Magic, but was fatally injured by her wicked talent for kicking."

"Oh," Harry replied. "Well thanks, mate."

Ron grinned. "No problem."

At that moment they were thankfully spared by the bell, signaling the end of class. Harry yawned widely as they made their way to the Great Hall, his jaw cracking as he did so.

"Eugh," said Hermione, "Are you alright, Harry? You seem awfully tired."

"I'm fine," he replied, "I just stayed up reading."

"Reading?" Hermione said curiously, her interest peaked. "What were you reading?"

Harry glanced around quickly, before lowering his voice and saying, "Occlumency."

Twin looks of understanding passed over Ron and Hermione's faces; Ron's however, was quickly followed by one of abject horror.

"Not with Snape again?" he questioned loudly.

"Shh!" Harry cautioned before continuing, "No, actually, with Sirius."

"Sirius?" Hermione said. "I wasn't aware he knew Occlumency."

"I wasn't either," Harry replied. "But I prefer him to Snape."

Hermione chuckled. "You'd prefer him to anyone, Harry," she said.

Harry nodded in agreement, smiling, and Ron muttered, "But _especially_ to Snape."

Harry and Hermione laughed aloud as they settled into their seats for lunch. Within a few minutes Ginny appeared next to Harry, a line of grey smudged against her cheek and her hair tied up in a sloppy bun. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he looked at her, and he reached out to brush the grey from her cheek before kissing the spot it had been in greeting.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi, " she replied, blushing gently but smiling brightly anyways.

Harry grinned at her, pleased that he could still make her blush even though they had finally progressed past the "crush" stage in their relationship.

"How are you?" he asked, handing her the plate of sandwiches she was reaching for.

"Slightly annoyed by the Fire-breathing plants we're studying in Herbology," she said. "One kept puffing smoke into my face while I was trying to prune it."

Harry laughed as he said, "I can see that. You're sooty."

"I know," she said, pouting slightly. "I'm a mess."

"You're gorgeous," he responded automatically, before blushing himself.

She beamed at him and leaned in to kiss him, but recoiled when something white struck her face.

"Get a room, scarhead!" Malfoy's snotty voice accosted them.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," Ron scowled, and Harry took the piece of paper and launched it back at Malfoy's head. He caught it, and then threw it back to Harry.

"Oh no, Potter, you keep it. Think of it as… something to look forward to," he sneered. "Ready to lose at Quidditch?"

"We aren't, but you should be!" a fierce voice answered from further down the table. Harry and Ginny turned, only to find Ann Mitchell on her feet, hands on her hips and glaring at Draco Malfoy. Harry's jaw dropped. All along the table, the other members of the team let out yells of support, and Malfoy lifted his chin in disdain.

"We'll beat you all," he hissed. He then turned to look at Harry again, and met his gaze squarely. "I'll beat _you_, Potter."

"You can try," Harry replied lazily.

Malfoy huffed and stalked away, leaving the Gryffindors to laugh and congratulate Ann on standing up to Malfoy. Harry looked down at the paper ball Malfoy had thrown and smoothed it out slowly only to have dread begin to form in the pit of his stomach as he saw familiar stick figures come into view. Harry watched the figures as their animation played out, feeling sick as he did so. It showed a figure with long hair, labeled "Girl Weasel", falling down again and again as she was hexed by figures in masks.

"What is it?" Ginny asked.

Harry jumped, and crumpled the paper up quickly. "Nothing," he replied. "Just Malfoy's usual rubbish." He aimed his wand at the ball and muttered, "_Incendio_." The paper burst into flames, crumbling into ash next to his juice.

Harry ignored the skeptical looks of his friends and took a bite of his lunch. Slowly everyone went back to their own lunches, chatting amicably, but Harry sighed internally. Between Ginny and Ann, Harry was starting to think he'd be too anxious to worry much about the snitch at all during Quidditch.

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"Harry," Hermione said quietly, "isn't it time for you to go see Sirius?"

Harry glanced at the clock from his position on the couch. "Yeah," he murmured, but made no move to get up. Normally he'd be looking forward to a visit with Sirius, but at this present moment he felt as though he'd rather stay here. They had come back to the common room after dinner, and were sprawled out comfortably across the couches and chairs before the fireplace. Ginny had fallen asleep with her head in his lap, and he smiled slightly and decided that curling up with his girlfriend definitely beat Occlumency lessons, even if they were with his godfather. But then he saw the stick-figure image of Ginny being struck down, again and again, and he sighed in resignation. He slid his hands gently under Ginny's head and lifted it slightly so he could get up, and then laid it back down on the couch. She stirred, but didn't waken.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione said with a smile.

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed. "You can do it, and all that. "

Harry shot him a grin. "Thanks, guys. See you later."

"See you," they chorused.

Harry walked down the quiet hallways, trying to recall everything he had read about Occlumency, but the words kept slipping through his grasp, chased away by nerves. He took several deep breaths, but by the time he was standing outside the portrait to Sirius and Remus' quarters, he was sweating and shaking just enough to frustrate him.

'_Come on, Harry,'_ he thought to himself. _'You need to do this.'_

He spoke the password and then walked into the cozy common room, which eased his nerves just a bit. It looked the same as it always did; Harry thought that he had half expected it to have been transformed into Snape's damp, chilly dungeon.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Sirius' voice said from behind him, but it was pitched lower than usual, with a silkier edge to it that was usually absent.

Harry turned around, and yelled out in surprise; Sirius was standing near the wall, but he didn't look how he normally did. Instead, his hair was pulled forward and seemed to be dripping onto the floor—not water, but something thicker. His nose had also been transfigured until it was nearly twice the size it usually was, and very crooked. The second Harry took this in, he burst out laughing,

"Bloody hell, Sirius!" he exclaimed through his hysterics. "What did you do? You look like Snape!"

"Exactly!" Sirius grinned, and it looked so bizarre that Harry's laughter resumed in full. Sirius quickly morphed his smile into a frown.

"It's easier to block people you hate from your mind, so I thought I'd teach you like this. What do you say?" His voice was still an unnaturally low pitch, and Harry could not for the life of him contain his amusement. The image of Snape superimposed over his godfather was hilariously funny, and more than a bit disturbing.

"No way, Sirius," he said. "I can't take you seriously like that! And what on earth is on your hair?"

"Grease," Sirius replied impishly, his voice sounding normal again. He waved his wand and was immediately himself again, dressed cleanly in the black slacks and white button down that he normally wore under his robes. His hair, now devoid of grease, he pulled back into a small ponytail as he crossed the room and sat down in his chair.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing with his hands. Harry came and sat down on the couch, still chortling softly. Sirius grinned. "Sorry," he said, not sounding it at all. "I was antsy, and had to do something."

Harry felt the smile slip off his face and he nodded, regaining control of himself. "I know what you mean," he said.

There was silence in the room for a moment before Sirius leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, his gaze intense as he looked at his godson.

"We don't have to do this," Sirius said softly.

"Yes we do," Harry shot back.

Sirius sighed. "Yes, we do… but not right away. We can wait, if you're not ready."

"I'll never be ready, Sirius," he murmured, "but I have to do it anyway. I can't… I lost you." Sirius reached out and gripped the back of Harry's neck with one hand, reassuring him silently of his presence as his godson continued to speak. "I lost you because I didn't learn this. That can't happen again."

Sirius squeezed Harry's neck gently and said, "It won't, Harry. Not to me, not to anyone else. We'll make sure of that."

Harry looked up at him, and Sirius smiled at him softly. "I'm ready when you are."

Harry swallowed and stood up, walking to stand in front of the fireplace. He was silent for a moment, and he reached out a hand to run it over the mantelpiece idly. After a few minutes he took a deep breath, and turned.

"Okay," he said. "I'm ready."

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A/N: End Chapter 21! Here's a deal for you: when I get to 650 reviews, I'll send Chapter 22 to my brilliant, amazingly supportive beta aerohead1980 and then I'll post it here for you all to read. Sound good?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Happy 2009 everyone.

~Willow Ann


	23. Chapter 22

A/N: Hello, everyone. First and only order of business—It seems I owe you all an apology. I'm terribly sorry for the review request on the end of the last chapter; it sent the completely wrong impression, and I never meant to offend anyone. As soon as I started getting negative reviews towards that, I realized that it may have given the impression that I was going to hold Chapter 22 ransom until I got the number of reviews I wanted; I agree with you all in thinking that's petty, and that was not my intention at all. Anyone who has been following this story for a while can attest to the fact that I am most likely the slowest update-er on the planet; I have gone whole years without posting a new chapter. This review challenge was not an attempt to force you all to review, but rather an attempt to force myself to write faster and update quicker for you all. I realized that the likelihood of you all reaching the mark was more likely to occur before I would have posted a Chapter at my own pace, so it was an attempt on my part to motivate myself. I'm sorry that I angered so many people, and I hope you all don't hold it against me. To be completely honest, I wasn't aware that it had become such a big problem on this site, and I stumbled into this situation a bit unwittingly. I completely understand how you as readers would be outraged that this seems to have become an authors-epidemic, and now that I know it's looked down upon so fiercely you have my word that I won't repeat the error. I hope you continue reading, and that your ire is somewhat appeased by this rather lengthy author's note. Anyways… here's the next chapter. I hope you like it.

Sincerely,

Willow Ann

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He saw Sirius raise his wand, heard the uttered word, but still was surprised at the force in which his godfather's mind invaded his own. As his memories flicked before his eyes—himself at four, locked in his cupboard—he thought vaguely that Sirius' mind felt much different than Snape's. It was gentler, warmer. It moved quickly but carefully through his consciousness, and for that Harry could only be grateful.

He was eight now, and was making breakfast and wincing as he burned himself on the hot stove.

Harry fought back against the force moving through his head, trying to forget that it was his godfather he was fighting; he knew too well it wouldn't always be. He tried to gather his strength together, tried to shove it roughly at the presence digging itself into his head.

He was thirteen, hiding under a table in the Three Broomsticks and overhearing the story of Sirius Black's betrayal.

The force in his mind jerked, paused for a split second, but as soon as Harry tried to force it out of his head completely it was there again, stronger than ever and moving faster than Harry could track it.

The next thing Harry registered was that he was on his back, and Sirius' voice was speaking anxiously next to his head.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

"…mmph," Harry moaned.

"Right," Sirius said, "I'm… not entirely sure what that means, but noise is better than no noise."

Harry felt a smile tug up at the corners of his mouth, and he opened his eyes. Sirius' face was hovering over his and he was kneeling on the floor next to him, looking at him with concern washed across his face.

"I'm fine, Sirius," he said honestly, pushing himself into a sitting position. "What happened?"

"You fainted," Sirius replied. "It's not uncommon when learning Occlumency; it's happened before, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "Except it was a lot less painful this time."

Sirius grinned. "So I'm better than Snape?"

"Of course!" Harry laughed. "Did you doubt it?"

"Not really, no," Sirius said. "But it's nice to hear anyways."

Harry chuckled. "You're much better than Snape, Sirius."

"Why thank you," Sirius said, bowing his head gracefully. He then looked at his godson in consideration. Harry was sweating; his hair was stuck to his forehead and his cheeks were flushed. "Do you want to continue?"

"Yes," Harry said, pushing himself to his feet and raising his wand.

"Wait a minute, now," Sirius said calmly, lowering Harry's wand gently. "There's more to Occlumency than just brute force, you know. You've got to study it, learn the technique and the concepts, just like any other area of magic."

"Snape…" Harry said slowly, "is officially the worst teacher in the entire universe."

Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him. "Did you doubt it?" He asked cheekily, shooting Harry's words back at him.

Harry grinned. "No… no, I suppose I didn't."

"The first thing you need to know," Sirius began, "is that just like every mind is different, every mind has a different way of attacking and defending itself. Some people use images to help themselves focus their energies, such as using an animal to attack or protect."

"Like a Patronus?" Harry asked.

"They're only related if you want them to be," Sirius replied. "If the image of an animal protecting you—protecting your thoughts—helps you focus your magic, then yes they could be similar. But you won't actually create that animal, it will just be a mental image you use to help yourself."

"So if an animal's image can protect a person's thoughts, can it also attack someone else's?" Harry wondered.

"It can," Sirius replied. "Back when Voldemort was first rising to power, I came across a wizard in Saint Mungo's who had lost his mind after being tortured by Voldemort. He kept saying he could feel a snake slithering around inside his head, and he was trying to claw it out of himself. The mediwizards had to sedate him to stop him from tearing his face to pieces."

"So you think Voldemort used the image of a snake to penetrate the man's thoughts?" Harry asked, amazed. "How could the man feel it if it was only a mental image?"

"No one really knows," Sirius answered. "Legilimency and Occlumency have stigmas surrounding them, connotations with dark magic that have made few people interested in exploring them. This was at the very beginning of Voldemort's first rise; it's very possible that he was just beginning to invade people's minds and still needed that aid of an image to help direct himself. Now, however…" Sirius trailed off, but Harry finished for him.

"He doesn't need a guide now," he said.

"No," Sirius said lowly. "No, he doesn't. Nor will he be as careful as I was. You know from your visions last year and from your lessons with Snape how painful something like this can be, both emotionally and physically." He hesitated for a moment before continuing quietly, "People don't usually come back from a direct mental attack by Voldemort."

"No," Harry replied. "No, I can't imagine they would."

An ominous silence reigned for a moment before Sirius came forward and slid an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Our best bet," he said with a reassuring smile, "is to just prevent him from ever getting into your head then, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Can we have another go, then?"

"Yes," Sirius replied. "This time, try to focus on feeling out where exactly I am inside your head. You focused your magic well, but you missed me by a long shot when you tried to throw me out. You're focusing too much on the memories that are playing out in front of you, so by the time you attack me I've already moved on. Focus on me, on feeling me inside your head, and try to ignore what's playing in front of your mind's eye."

"Okay," Harry said. "I'm ready. Let's go again."

Sirius took a deep breath, steadied his wand, and murmured, "_Legilimens!"_

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Harry passed out during their second lesson, and again during their third. By the time they got to their fourth lesson, he had made barely any progress and frustration was mounting up quickly within him.

"I can't do it!" he ground out between clenched teeth, pushing himself up off the floor and wiping his sweating forehead negligently on his sleeve.

"Yes, you can," Sirius said firmly. "We just need to find the way that works best for you."

"We've tried everything!" Harry snapped out, anger etched across every feature. "We tried the animal technique the first day, the walls the second day—stone and metal and brick walls, none the less—and we tried water the third day. Fire clearly isn't working today. What else is there? Wind, perhaps? Stick with the elements theme?"

"Harry," Sirius said, approaching him until he was standing in front of him. Sirius wanted to reach out and touch him, but thought better of it. Harry was too agitated right now, and Sirius didn't want to be the force that pushed his godson over the edge. "You'll get it. I promise you, you will. You just need to keep at it."

"I kept at it last year, I read about it over the summer, I've tried my best. There's nothing else I can do," he said exasperatedly, throwing himself down onto the couch with his chest heaving.

"You were alone in your efforts last year and over the summer. Trying to learn Occlumency on your own isn't going to work; believe me, I tried," Sirius said, a slight note of bitterness seeping into his voice. He sat down beside his godson and turned to him, looking at him piercingly. "Snape wasn't the right teacher for you; you didn't understand each other or work well together. But you and me? We can do this, Harry. It isn't easy for me either, seeing you hurt by those muggles when you should have been with me, or watching you get hurt in any other number of ways. But I can bear it to help you, just as you can bear it. Together we can do this, I promise you."

Harry gazed back at him, the tension easing out of his frame. His shoulders slumped forward and he sighed, suddenly more dejected than angry.

"D'you really think so?" he asked hesitantly.

"Harry," Sirius murmured, "I know so. I know _you_, and you can do it. I'll help you, and you'll get it."

"I just…" he trailed off, and then started again. "I'm just so scared, Sirius," he admitted in a whisper. "I'm so scared of… of last year happening again. I _need_ to know this, and it seems like I'll never be able to get it."

Sirius reached out slowly, giving Harry time to draw away if he wanted to. When he didn't, he reached out and wrapped one arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry paused for a moment, and then leaned into Sirius' side ever so slightly. Sirius smiled to himself and then paused, pondering Harry's words.

"That could be," he began slowly, "part of the reason you're having a bit of trouble picking it up. If you're feeling that desperate about it, your energy may be focused more on the result than on the process of getting there."

"If you tell me to clear my mind, I may die," Harry said flatly.

Sirius chuckled. "Well I shan't tell you that then. That never worked for me anyways. I always have too much going on inside my head, and was never any good at clearing it."

"So what do you do, then?" Harry questioned.

"I… try to quiet it," Sirius replied. "There are always millions of thoughts in my head, but whatever thoughts I'm focusing on will be more prominent in my mind, making them seem louder than the others. If I try to quiet them all, try to make them all the same level until they're just sort of background noise, it achieves the same effect as clearing the mind for me." He paused and then asked, "Did that make any sense whatsoever?"

"It… made a lot of sense, actually," Harry said slowly. "It seems much more realistic than clearing the mind completely. How can someone not think at all?"

Sirius shrugged. "Some people can, I just never could. Like I said, Occlumency isn't set in stone. You just need to find what works for you and go from there."

"So your thoughts become background noise," Harry stated, mulling the idea over in his head.

Sirius nodded. "They do," he said. "They become sort of like… trees rustling in the wind, or the sound of breathing in your dormitory at night. You can hear it if you focus on it, but it's such a common noise that it doesn't really stand out unless you want it to."

"Okay," Harry said. "I think I understand. Should we have another go, then?"

Sirius studied his godson, taking in the dark circles under his eyes that had appeared once again.

"Let's call it a night," he said. "It's late."

Harry sighed and nodded. "Yeah," he murmured. He didn't make a motion to get up though, seeming content to sit with Sirius on the couch. Sirius smiled to himself again, and felt happiness well up inside his chest. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Harry's temple, reveling in the fact that he could—that Harry finally trusted him enough to let him.

Harry turned his head and cocked an eyebrow at him with a slight smile. "What was that for?" he asked.

Sirius grinned and shrugged cheekily. "Just… you know," he said.

Harry grinned back and laughed slightly, reaching around Sirius and giving him a brief, one-armed hug. "Yeah, I know."

"Go to bed, kid," Sirius said. "You look tired."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"You sleeping okay?" Sirius ventured, hoping he sounded nonchalant. He needn't have worried; Harry answered without a fuss, sending another jolt of joy through his godfather.

"Yeah, I've just been staying up reading," he said. "Occlumency, you know. Been trying to make some progress."

"Sometimes rest is the best thing for you," Sirius replied. "Kill the reading for tonight at least and just go to bed, yeah?"

"Okay," Harry agreed. He stood up then, and made his way to the door. He turned before he left though, shooting a smile at his godfather.

"Thanks, Sirius," he said.

Sirius grinned crookedly and nodded. "No need," he murmured. "Sleep well."

"You too," Harry said, and then disappeared out the door.

Sirius looked at the back of the portrait where he had left for a few minutes before leaning back on the couch, sighing contentedly. His renewed relationship with Harry was soothing the aches inside of him that had been aching for too long, and he hoped Harry was receiving a similar comfort. Sirius could see his godson opening up to him, more than he ever had before, and the knowledge that they were finally becoming the family they had both needed for so long sent a warm bubble of relief and elation floating through his chest. He heard a door creak open behind him, and he turned his head to see Remus entering their common room.

"Hey," Sirius said.

"Hey yourself," Remus replied quietly, smiling at him. He sat in the chair Sirius normally occupied and crossed an ankle over his knee. "How was it tonight?"

"He passed out again," Sirius said, and then added a bit dryly, "and then got very angry."

Remus chuckled. "I know, I heard. He gets his temper from Lily."

"That he does, Remy," Sirius replied.

"You've tried all the normal techniques, I take it?" Remus asked.

"Yep," Sirius said shortly. "And a few not so normal ones. No luck yet, but he'll get it."

Remus hesitated, then asked slowly, "… Have you tried the one Dumbledore used with you?"

Sirius' features morphed from contentment to brooding anger within seconds, his eyes darkening as he was silent for a moment. Remus looked at him with sympathy, recognizing the look Sirius got whenever he recalled his more painful memories.

"No," Sirius bit out. "I won't do that to him."

"It's… just an option, Sirius," Remus began.

"No it's not," his friend said. "I had nightmares for weeks."

"But you learned Occlumency right away. All it took was once, and you had it," Remus reminded him.

"It was a last resort," Sirius said. "I had worked with all the other techniques for months before Albus did that."

"And none of them worked," Remus pushed gently. "Just like with Harry."

"Harry's just started. Remus," Sirius said lowly. "I won't do it. I _can't_ do it—to him or to myself. Just seeing him in that fucking cupboard tonight—listening to him overhear stories about my betrayal—I won't go looking for more of that. Those aren't things either of us wants to recall. It's just… more pain. "

Remus studied him for a moment and then shook his head, a soft smile on his face. "You two are more alike than you know, Sirius."

"He'll get it," Sirius persisted.

"Of that, I have no doubt," Remus replied. "But I think you should prepare yourself for the possibility that it could come down to that."

"No!" Sirius shouted, suddenly on his feet. "You have no idea what it's like, getting your consciousness forcefully dragged through your _worst_ memories until it seems like you're reliving them over and over again, all at the same time! You have no idea what kind of pain that creates! That might be fine for someone who grew up spoiled and coddled, but it's not for people like me and Harry!"

Remus stood to face Sirius. "Sirius, do you think I liked seeing you in that kind of pain?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, maybe you did!" Sirius spat out. "You must have, if you want me to do that to Harry."

"No, I don't want Harry to go through that," Remus said. "And he won't, even if you do try teaching him that way."

"How could you possibly say that?" Sirius asked incredulously, raking a hand through his hair agitatedly.

"Because he has you!" Remus exclaimed, trying to make Sirius understand. "He has you, Sirius! And Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. And me. When you did this with Dumbledore… you had no one."

Sirius jerked. "That's not true," he stated. "I had you too. And… and James."

Remus looked at him sadly for a moment. "No, you didn't, Sirius. It… it was sixth year. Right after, after Snape. And the Willow."

Sirius froze, and Remus could feel the shock that seemed to radiate from his friend.

"…Oh," he let out breathlessly. "I… I had forgotten that," he said quietly. Agony washed across his face quickly then made way for resentment that inched across his features like spilling water. "I'd say I don't know how I forgot that, but I do," he murmured. "It's Azkaban. All the… all the bad memories, they stand out like separate events when you're in there." Sirius' eyes had lost their focus, and Remus knew he was seeing things – horrors—that no one else in the world could see. "Dementors… they pick your foulest memories and play them over and over again before your eyelids until you lose everything that was around it. You can't place them back in real time, can't see them any other way except as a way to torture you. I remembered learning Occlumency, and the Willow, and… the disasters that happened afterward, but I… I somehow lost that they were all related."

Remus moved forward and laid a hand on his friend's shoulders. "It's okay, Sirius. You're out of there now."

"Am I?" he asked quietly. "Sometimes it doesn't seem like it."

Remus closed his eyes and gripped the material of Sirius' shirt, pulling him into a rough embrace. Sirius' arms came up around his back and tightened, held on.

"I never wanted to see you in that much pain, Sirius," Remus whispered.

"I know," Sirius said back, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. And I… I didn't mean the Willow, either. You need to believe me, Rem, I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

"I know that, Sirius! Merlin, I know. I forgave you for that a long time ago, you know I did." Remus said fiercely, his words slightly muffled by Sirius' shoulder. "Don't even think about that anymore." He felt Sirius breathe in haltingly, and when he felt his head nod Remus continued, "I'm sorry too, for just now. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know," Sirius said again. "I know you're right, even. I just… I hate to think of Harry going through what I did."

Remus pulled back just enough to look Sirius in the face. "He won't," Remus said earnestly. "We won't let him."

"It almost killed me, Remus," Sirius said, voice pinched and eyes anguished.

"I know it did," Remus said quietly, and felt his own eyes tear up at the thought of what Sirius was referring to. "I know it did. But it won't kill him, nor will it hurt him as much as it hurt you. He has you to look after him."

Sirius took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "He does," he stated. "And he always will. I'll make sure of that."

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Harry trudged back from Sirius' quarters through the deserted hallways, feeling as though the common room had never been so far away. When he finally made it back, he found it empty save for one person. Ginny was fast asleep on the couch, a book open across her chest. Harry felt a smile tug up the corners of his lips at the thought of her waiting up for him, and he crossed over to her quietly. He knelt down by the side of the couch and then leant forward to place a kiss on her forehead. She stirred, and then opened her eyes slowly.

"Hey," she said sleepily, looking around and blinking against the firelight.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a lock of hair off of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"How'd it go?" she asked around a yawn.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but words vanished from his mind as she lifted her arms over her head and stretched, her right shoulder popping slightly and her hair ruffling against the couch. It was neither dignified nor graceful, but Harry couldn't help but be charmed by it—charmed by _her_. He looked at her and couldn't help remembering the gentle way in which she had taken to waking him every morning she could. He remembered the way she could tease laughter out of him when no one else could, and the way she made his constant pains seem just a bit more bearable. He remembered the way she had become a constant, steadying presence next to him anywhere from the library to the common room, and he couldn't imagine living without it now. His chest swelled and his head tilted as he took her in, studied her, and he realized all at once that falling in love with her was inevitable. He wasn't yet—it was too soon for that, and all of this was too new for him to really be comfortable with yet—but he knew that he adored her, and that that feeling would only escalate with time.

"Someday soon," he said before he could stop himself, "I think I might find myself in love with you."

Her eyes snapped to his and she froze, all traces of sleepiness gone from her face. She looked at him for a long moment, and Harry felt his face heat in nervousness and embarrassment. He opened his mouth to apologize, to say something to break the silence, but then a small smile curled up the corners of her mouth.

"Well, Mr. Potter," she said softly, "that's a very good thing, because it's quite possible that someday I might find myself in love with you too."

Harry's breath rushed out in huff and he dropped his head down, letting it hang on his shoulders.

"Sweet Merlin," he muttered. "That was awful."

She laughed. "Awful? Really? Okay, I take it back then."

"No!" he exclaimed, his head shooting up. "No, that's not—that's not what I meant. I just—"

"Relax, Harry," she said, chuckling. "I know what you meant. And for right now, that's perfect."

"…Is it?" he asked hesitantly. He felt a knot of tension he hadn't even realized was there ease within him, and he realized that he had been worried that it _wouldn't_ be enough. That she wanted more than he could give, and that he himself wouldn't be enough for her.

"Yes, Harry," she said, looking at him with understanding written across her face, and Harry knew that he had been caught. He barely had time to marvel at her ability to read his every thought by looking at his face before she was speaking again.

"I know… that you're going through more than anyone should ever have to go through," she murmured, "and that you have a job waiting for you that's bigger and more difficult than any other job on the planet. I don't want you to worry about us, on top of everything. We're here because we want to be. We're just… Ginny and Harry. I want whatever you can give me, Harry, because whatever that is will be enough for me."

She blushed and then fell silent; it reassured Harry, knowing that they were both in unchartered territory.

"I… Ginny," he stuttered, and then paused before finally saying, "Thank you."

She smiled at him but didn't respond; instead, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Harry kissed her back, leaning forward and wrapping one arm behind her neck so that he was cradling her head in the crook of his arm. He shivered as she ran a hand through his hair, her nails dragging gently across his scalp. They broke apart after a few moments, and Harry rested his forehead against hers.

"It's late," he murmured. "You didn't have to wait up for me."

"Well, I wasn't exactly 'up'," she grinned. "I fell asleep an hour ago, I think."

Harry smiled and pressed another brief kiss to her mouth. "You should go to sleep," he said.

She hesitated. "Do you think…" she trailed off, then cleared her throat. "What I mean is… do you think I could come with you?" Harry froze and she looked up at him, brown eyes wide and hesitant. "Just to sleep, I mean."

"…Yeah," he replied. "That… that sounds good."

A few minutes later, they were both tucked up in Harry's bed, curtains drawn tight and the covers over both their shoulders. Harry had his nose buried in Ginny's hair, and she sighed happily as she nestled into his arms with her back to his chest. Harry was just drifting off, feeling warmer and more peaceful than he had ever felt in his life when a sudden thought occurred to him.

"If your brother finds out you're here, he'll castrate me," Harry whispered, a faint note of worry in his voice.

Ginny snorted quietly. "Which one?"

A pause, and then…"All of them, actually," Harry replied.

Ginny asked, "Do you think it's possible to be castrated six times?"

"If it isn't, the twins will find a way," Harry replied sardonically. "Sweet Merlin. I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"Not yet, you're not," Ginny replied cheekily. Harry felt his throat and cheeks heat up in a blush that he knew was bright red and opened and shut his mouth several times, unable to form an answer. Ginny chuckled.

"Go to sleep, Harry," she said gently, squeezing his hand. "I'll slip out before Ron gets up."

"Right," Harry said, not truly worried and unable to fight sleep any longer. His eyes drifted shut, and his body started to feel heavy as he sunk into sleep. Right before he dozed off, he heard Ginny say sleepily, "And when they do find out, you just let me deal with them." Harry smiled, and then fell asleep.

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End Chapter 22.


	24. Chapter 23

A/N: Enjoy! Love and thanks go as always to my wonderful beta, aerohead1980.

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"Harry, get up we're—oh." A pause, and then, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?"

Harry's eyes shot open and he sat up, looking around blearily. "What?" he asked, searching for some sign of a disturbance. "What is it?"

"_What is it?_" Ron asked incredulously, eyes wide and face reddening rapidly. "MY SISTER IS IN YOUR BED, that's what it is!"

Harry froze, and suddenly the fact that Ginny was in his bed became a very, very bad thing instead of the previously wonderful thing it had been.

"Oh, shit," he muttered.

Ron snorted. "'Oh shit?' That's all you have to say? Ginny, get up."

"No, I don't think I will," Ginny said sleepily, rolling over and slipping her arm around Harry's waist and trying to tug him back down. "And do shut up, Ronald. It's not like this is the first time—it's been going on for weeks." Harry resisted her arm and instead dropped his face into his hands with a muffled groan.

"Thanks, Gin," he said. Ginny tickled her fingers at his side in response and he smiled and batted at her hand, amused by her even as he was terrified of his… former?... best friend's reaction.

"WEEKS?" Ron exclaimed. And then, "Ginevra Weasley," Ron said, his voice forcefully deep as he attempted to sound demanding, his hands on his hips. "You have five seconds to get out of that bed. Starting now."

Silence. No one moved.

"…Five _more_ seconds," Ron stated.

Silence.

"I'm not kidding, Ginny. Harry, get her up." Harry poked her half-heartedly. When instead of getting up she tugged at the arm around his waist again, Harry grinned and gave up the fight. He lay back down, and Ginny hummed contentedly and snuggled up to his side.

"Sorry, Ron," Harry said. "Don't hate me."

"Oh bloody hell," he said. "I'm leaving."

"Mmmkay," Ginny murmured, already half asleep. "Don't slam the door on your way out."

Ron made a strangled, choking sound and stomped out of the dormitory, slamming the door predictably with as much force as he could muster. Harry joined in with the chuckles of his remaining roommates when a few seconds later a bellowed, "HERMIONE!" sounded from the common room. He shook his head at Neville, who's eyebrows were raised comically, and then pulled his hanging's shut and cast a Silencing charm.

"Well," Ginny said, "That went well."

"It went well, did it?" Harry asked, eyebrows mimicking Neville's gesture unconsciously. "Did you not see him frothing at the mouth just now?"

"He didn't castrate you," Ginny pointed out helpfully. "But then again, he may be owling the twins as we speak."

"Fantastic," Harry deadpanned. Ginny laughed and kissed his cheek softly.

"Don't worry, Harry. Mum taught me a few things—when you're the only two women in a family of nine, you've got to stick together," she said.

"I'm… not entirely sure who I'm more afraid of—the twins or your mum," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Neither," Ginny answered for him. "They all love you. You're part of the family, you know. You have been for a long time, and whether you're my boyfriend or not doesn't change that."

Harry turned his head and looked at her, eyes tracing over her face. He leaned forward after a moment and used his nose to nudge her face up, and then kissed her softly.

"I know," he murmured. "And that means more to me than you'll ever know."

Ginny smiled and pressed their lips together again, and Harry brought one hand up to hold the back of her neck gently. When they broke apart a few moments later, Ginny blushed prettily and laid her head down on his shoulder again.

"You know, I'm not sure I could sleep without you anymore," she pondered aloud.

Harry tugged her closer, thinking that he probably wouldn't be able to sleep without her either. She was an amazing tonic for the nightmares that had still plagued him even after he had made up with Sirius. Since she had started spending the nights with him a few weeks ago, he hadn't had a nightmare once—her solid, warm presence at his side seeped into him and put his mind at ease, and so far it had been enough to keep the memories at bay.

Ginny wriggled against him, trying to find a more comfortable position, before smiling and saying happily, "It's Saturday. What are you doing today, after Quidditch practice?"

"Hermione wants me to get started on that potions assignment, and I'm meeting Sirius around dinner time," Harry answered her, tracing his fingertips gently along the length of her arm.

"Don't you usually see him after dinner?" Ginny asked.

"Mhmm," Harry agreed, trying to sound unconcerned. "He said specifically not to eat anything."

"That's strange," Ginny said. "I wonder why."

Harry had wondered why, as well, but had done his best to ignore the warning feeling his gut was giving him. The thought had crossed his mind that maybe Sirius wanted to eat with him tonight, but somehow Harry had a feeling that the real reason was more foreboding. Sirius would never hurt him intentionally—after everything they had been through together, Harry finally believed that. But Harry still couldn't shake the feeling that something unpleasant was coming his way. Harry sighed, and tried to convince himself that the fact they were supposed to have another lesson in Occlumency tonight had nothing to do with Sirius' request. Somehow, he couldn't quite manage it.

"I'd rather not think about why," he replied instead.

That got Ginny's attention, and she propped herself up on one elbow so she could look down into his face. "Are you working on Occlumency again?"

Harry nodded, turning his head away in an attempt to hide his increasing anxiety. Ginny caught his chin between her fingers and tilted it back slowly and waited until he met her eyes.

"You can do it, Harry," she said quietly.

"… I don't think so, Gin," he replied. "It's been months now, since we started. The winter hols are coming up and… I still can't do it."

"You'll get it," she persisted. "You always do."

He looked at her, worry etched across every facet of his face, and then lifted his hand and traced his fingers down Ginny's cheek. He wished sometimes that he could bottle her up and carry her with him everywhere; infuse himself with her quiet confidence and positive energy and face the world with the same determination that she did. Ginny leaned down after a moment and rested her forehead against his, letting her hair fall down as a curtain around them to block out the rest of the world.

"D'you want to sleep some more?" she asked.

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted despite the fact he had yet to get out of bed.

"Okay," she said. "Should I go? Let you rest on your own?"

"Please don't," Harry asked softly. "It's like you said. I… I sleep better, with you."

She smiled at him gently and nodded before lying down, throwing an arm over his chest possessively and twining their legs together. She pressed a kiss to the skin beneath his ear and whispered, "Try not to worry. Just sleep."

And Harry did.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Sirius," Remus coaxed gently. "You have to eat something. It's nearly half three and you haven't eaten since last night."

Sirius didn't look at him. He was sitting in his chair before the fireplace, gazing into the hearth with a dark, empty stare. Remus could see the flames reflected in his pupils from where he was crouched in front of him, and it looked as though the fire reflecting off his eyes was the only movement—the only sign of life—inside his friend.

"Sirius," Remus said again. "Look at me."

For a moment, Remus thought Sirius wouldn't comply, but then blue eyes shifted ever so slowly to meet his gaze. Remus suppressed a shiver; the emptiness hadn't vanished, even when looking into the eyes of a lifelong friend.

"What?" Sirius asked. His voice was low, hoarse.

"You're doing it," Remus said. "The Black thing."

Sirius blinked slowly. Licked his lips. "I'm not."

"You are," Remus countered. "You're… blank. I hate it."

"Why?" Sirius stated. It was a question, but it didn't sound like one. Sirius' voice had lost inflection, just as his eyes had lost the mischievous sparkle that was so characteristic.

"Because you're like an Inferi!" Remus burst out. "Your body is moving, but there's nothing inside! Stop it!"

Sirius' lips curled upwards; it was a dark, sardonic smile, and Remus was reminded for a moment of the picture of Sirius that had been captured the day after James and Lily had been murdered, while he was being hauled to Azkaban.

"An Inferi?" Sirius said. "I'd rather think of it as someone who's received the Dementor's Kiss. You must admit, it's fitting. It was a dangerously real possibility, for a while."

"And that's _not_ fitting, Sirius," Remus argued, voice calm again though fierce with determination. "I know you, better than anyone else currently living. This is what you do, when life becomes too much and you think you can't handle it. It's like the years reversed themselves and you're right back inside your parents' house, listening to their bullshit about 'masks' that hide emotional weaknesses. But I know you. You're alive, you're not an inferi and you haven't been Kissed and somewhere inside you, you're panicking. But I'm telling you, Sirius, it's okay to show that, and you can handle it. So can Harry. I promise."

Sirius was still for a very long moment before he closed his eyes. When his shoulders slumped minutes later, Remus' eyes fell shut as well as relief swept through him. When Sirius opened his eyes again, Remus smiled at him. The blankness had cracked, and Remus could finally recognize his friend. His eyes were pained, full of regret and fear and a million other emotions that Remus had learned to recognize, but they were all tinged with something that made them utterly _Sirius_, and Remus reached out and gripped Sirius' knee.

"There you are," he said quietly. "Hi."

Sirius smiled at him then, and despite its faintness and its obvious hints of anxiety, it didn't contain the darkness that had previously occupied it.

"Hi," Sirius replied sheepishly. "… Sorry. Minor breakdown."

Remus chuckled slightly. "It's okay, Sirius. You're scared."

Sirius snorted. "I'm not entirely sure 'scared' covers it, Rem. I don't want to do it."

Remus' face filled with compassion, and he squeezed Sirius' knee gently. "I know you don't. And you still don't have to. But… it may work."

"I know," Sirius replied. "I just… hate that it's come to this. I'm going to give him the choice, though. Let him make the decision."

Remus nodded in understanding. "That's wise," he agreed. "Just be careful not to give it away… it needs to be effective."

"I know," Sirius said again, his face haunted. "I remember."

Remus stood up then and crossed over to the couch and sat down on the side closest to Sirius, listening to his knees pop as he did so. The full moon was in a few days' time, and his joints had already begun to ache.

Sirius looked at him, eyebrows raised in concern that momentarily distracted him. "Are you alright?"

Remus waved a hand at him negligently. "I'm old," he said nonchalantly. "Don't worry about me."

"You're not old," Sirius said. "Not by a long shot."

"You're just saying that because that would make you old as well," Remus grinned at him.

Sirius chuckled. "Well, partly," he admitted. "But also because it's true."

"Not true for you, maybe," Remus said quietly. "Werewolves aren't known to have particularly long lives. We… tend to find ways to hurt ourselves."

There was silence for a moment before Sirius said, "Well you'll be the first to die of old age, then. Natural causes. Things are different now."

Remus studied his friend and thought of the full moons they had spent together in school, roaming the grounds as a foursome—as a pack—strong and alive and _invincible_. He thought of the moons he had spent locked in his basement, alone and despairing, ripping himself to shreds as his wolf mourned the loss of its pack and awaking in the mornings, cold and blood soaked, still alone. And he thought of the moons now, spent quietly curled up by the fireside—a grey and white wolf and a large, shaggy black dog that lay beside it, rested it's head upon the wolf's side and breathed quietly against it, offering comfort and managing somehow to tame it.

"Yes," Remus said quietly. "They certainly are."

By half five, Sirius was lying on his back on the couch, wand in hand and a myriad of colorful sparks, shapes, and letters swirling in the air above him. Remus had smiled at him in amusement over the edge of his book when Sirius had started creating miniature, sparkling images and words above him—it was something he had started doing at fourteen when he was bored. The fact that this small, inconsequential tendency had survived Azkaban made Remus' chest feel warm, and he didn't say anything as Sirius continued to quietly entertain and distract himself as they waited for Harry to arrive.

Sirius murmured a word gently, and a dazzling white lily bloomed amongst the colorful chaos already created, sparkling like rays of sun on the lake in summer. A sad smile graced Sirius' lips, and Remus remembered that Sirius had created that image when James and Lily had finally started dating in their seventh year. Lily had made a fuss about it at first, complaining that it followed her around more hours of the day than James did, but they had all known she had secretly loved it.

"Is that a lily?" Harry's voice asked from the doorway. Sirius' head snapped around, and he smiled at his godson and gestured him into the room. He came and sat on the floor by the couch, looking up at the designs with a slight sense of wonder.

"Yeah," Sirius replied, turning his gaze back to the flower above him. "I made it for your mum, in our seventh year. I used to make it follow her around—it drove her mad," he said, his voice amused.

"You know she adored it," Remus interjected.

Sirius chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose she did."

"Why'd you make it for her?" Harry asked curiously.

Sirius paused for a moment, pensive, before replying. "I wanted to show her, and James, and… everyone, that I liked her. That I approved. A lot of people were surprised when they finally got together, and I wanted to… squash any rumors that could have erupted."

"How could you do that just by making her a sparkling flower?" Harry wondered.

"You underestimate your godfather's popularity," Remus said wryly. "Once he did something… that was it. The whole school did it too."

"Not just me," Sirius chided. "You too. And James."

"The three of us," Remus conceded briefly, but then added, "But mostly you."

Sirius huffed and traced a finger down one of the lily's petals gently. A small shower of glittering dust fell from the whiteness, and rained down onto Sirius' chest before disappearing.

"It let people know that they were real," Sirius said quietly. "And showed everyone that I wasn't upset about it. People thought I would be—we had been a double act for so long, James and I, that some thought I was angry over 'losing him to Lily.' That was never the case, though. Lily became my family when she became James'. There was no looking back after that. This flower was… what flowers always are. It was my way of reminding Lily that I loved her."

There was silence in the room for a minute, broken only by the popping of the logs in the fireplace. The three men gazed at the lily, wistfulness painted across each of their faces, and then Sirius sighed and banished all the designs from the air with a murmured word and pushed himself into a seated position.

"Come sit," he said, gesturing Harry onto the couch. "We have something to discuss."

"Oh, God," Harry groaned, sitting down dejectedly. "I knew it."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. "You knew what?"

"That tonight was going to be bad," Harry said.

Sirius' other eyebrow joined the first. "How do you know?" he asked. "I haven't said anything yet."

Harry gave him a shrewd sideways glance and then gestured for him to continue.

Sirius took a deep breath and said, "It's about Occlumency. You have a decision to make."

"Okay," Harry said warily.

"We… haven't had much luck yet, but we can keep trying with the ways we've worked with before, and try to change them so they suit you," Sirius said smoothly, and then paused for a heavy moment. "Or… we could try the way that Dumbledore used to teach me."

"Dumbledore taught you?" Harry asked, surprised.

Sirius nodded. "I told you that."

"You told me he thought it might protect you from your family… for some reason I didn't think he had taught you himself," Harry explained.

"Ah," Sirius said in acknowledgement. "Yes, well, when I was at school we were lacking the outstanding display of teacherly and scholarly knowledge that is Professor Snape. He was still a kid then, same as me."

Harry nodded absently, mind racing. "So Dumbledore taught you. How long did it take you? How did you learn?"

Sirius hesitated, and then said slowly, "We started studying at the beginning of the school year. That's when… that was the year before I ran away from home. We tried everything, and I just… couldn't pick it up. He did something to me then, something that forced me to learn it in one foul swoop. Right before the winter hols."

"Same as me," Harry murmured, almost to himself. "What did he do?"

A pained look came over Sirius' face and his eyes lost their focus, as though he was looking at something very far off in the distance. Harry's chest tightened; he hated that he recognized that look, that Sirius was hurt so often that his face washed into the expression frequently enough to be recognized.

"I can't tell you, not if we're going to use it now," Sirius said. "Part of the method's technique is surprise. It's used to disarm the mind."

Dread rolled through Harry's stomach and he felt all the blood drain from his face. His tried to collect his courage, to ground his thoughts in the knowledge that nothing would happen to him here in Sirius' rooms at Hogwarts, but his voice shook as he said, "Okay. Let's do it."

"Not yet," Sirius said. "Before you decide I need to you to know that it… that it hurts, Harry. This method isn't documented, and it isn't common. I don't know of it being used on anyone except for me. Dumbledore used it as a last resort, and he gave me no warning of what it was or what it would be like. It happened at a time in my life when I had no one, and my reaction was immediate. It… it messed me up, Harry. For a long time. I… I can't tell you how badly."

Harry's eyes were glistening now, pained for both Sirius and himself, and his shoulders were shaking with anxiety and fear that he was desperately trying to suppress. Harry couldn't think of anyone that was a stronger person than Sirius, and if this mysterious, ominous method had affected him so badly, Harry didn't think that he could handle it. Sirius made a muted noise in the back of his throat and reached out a hand to run it through Harry's hair, and when it pulled him forward Harry followed it eagerly.

"Don't look like that, Harry. It wouldn't be like that for you," Sirius said, speaking into the top of Harry's head. "I need to know that, too. I'm giving you warning right now, and I'm telling you that I won't leave you alone to deal with it. I'll be here, and Remus, and Ron and Hermione and Ginny. We'll let them know what's happening, and we'll… we'll take care of you, if you'll let us."

Harry was silent for a moment, and Sirius continued softly. "So you have two options, then, like I said. Continue trying with the conventional methods—elements, images, and the like, or try this new way," Sirius said. He paused, and then took a deep breath to calm his nerves that were jangling around inside his body, making him feel trapped and agitated. "I just… I want you to make this decision with the knowledge that it will be hard, but if you choose to do it, we'll be there with you. I won't let you have the same experience I did."

Harry breathed quietly into Sirius' shoulder for several long moments, thoughts racing throughout his mind rapidly. He remembered the way Snape had torn into his mind last year, how it had felt to be ripped open from the inside, and shuddered as his temples throbbed with sympathetic pain. He remembered the cold, sickly panic that had set into his chest when he had thought, last June, that Sirius had been captured by Voldemort and was going to be tortured to his death. And then he remembered actually losing Sirius, watching him fall behind the Veil and out of his reach for seemingly forever, and Harry shook harder and wrapped one arm around Sirius' waste and squeezed. He thought of the many evenings he had woken up on the rug in front of Sirius' fireplace after passing out after one of his many failed attempts at Occlumency. He saw himself in his mind's eye trying, and failing each time, to get it right. Fierce defiance rose up within Harry, and his anger at Voldemort bubbled to the surface. He would not be manipulated anymore, couldn't lose anyone else he loved.

"Let's do it," he said, quiet determination settling into his body.

He felt Sirius freeze next to him, and then nod.

"Okay," he said. "Let's do it."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"So when is this happening?" Hermione asked anxiously, wringing her hands together in her lap.

"Soon. Tonight," Remus answered, looking into the pale faces in front of him. "Sirius is getting him ready in the next room."

Sirius had sent an owl to Hermione, Ron, and Ginny as soon as the decision had been made, asking them to come to their rooms. They had arrived quickly, worried expressions on their faces, and Remus had ushered them into the sitting room to tell them of the experience Harry was about to undergo.

"I thought he was already learning Occlumency," Ron said, freckles standing out starkly upon his face, broad shoulders tense. "Why do they have to do this new thing, if it's so dangerous?"

"It's not dangerous," Remus corrected gently. "Just… rather painful to the mind. Harry will need your support afterwards."

"Harry's dealing with enough right now," Ginny interjected, defensive. "He's only just begun sleeping again—" she paused as Ron muttered darkly at her side, but continued without addressing him. "Maybe this should wait. Why can't they keep trying the regular techniques?"

"Because they're not working, Gin," Harry's voice said quietly from behind them. All eyes immediately shifted to the doorway of Sirius' bedroom, where Harry was leaning against the frame wearily. He was dressed casually, robes discarded in favor of a plain t-shirt and old, worn out jeans. Harry had changed with the uncomfortable knowledge that he tended to fall down, sweat, and generally thrash about while Legilimency was being performed on him, and he figured that those effects would only be magnified with this new method. Robes, he thought wryly, would definitely get in the way of his thrashing.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed, and was across the room in a second and throwing herself into his arms.

Harry chuckled. "It's alright, Hermione, really. I'm not going anywhere. Nothing's happening to me. I'm just learning something new."

She pulled away and looked at him intently, eyes welling up with tears.

"Oh, no, please don't cry," he said quickly, reaching out and squeezing her hand. "It'll be fine, I promise."

"I know, I know," she said, sniffing. "I'm being silly." She shook her head quickly and patted her hair down, composing herself briskly. "Alright, then," she continued. "Just let us know when you need us, Harry, and we'll be here."

Harry smiled at her gratefully. "Thanks, Hermione." She smiled back at him, and then walked with him back into the center of the room where Ron and Ginny were standing.

"Good luck, mate," Ron said lowly, clapping his shoulder and squeezing momentarily. Harry nodded and smiled, gripping his forearm for a moment. Ron exchanged a quick glance with Hermione, who motioned discreetly at the door, and the pair moved quietly out of the room. Remus stood up and retreated into Sirius' bedroom, leaving Harry alone with Ginny in the sitting room.

There was silence for a moment as the two looked at each other, and then Ginny took a breath and said, "So you're staying here tonight, then?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he answered. "Sirius said the first few nights are the worst. He wants me here for a while."

Ginny nodded in understanding, but looked at her feet. Her hair fell across one shoulder and into her face, and Harry stepped forward and tucked it behind her ear. When she still didn't look at him, he took her chin in his hand gently and tilted her face up.

"I'll miss you," he stated quietly.

The smile she gave him was small but steady, and Harry reveled once again at her strength. "I'll miss you, too." She paused embarrassedly for moment and then admitted, "I nicked one of your shirts. To sleep in."

Harry grinned at her, mentally admiring the way she looked in one of his t-shirts. "Good," he said.

She met his gaze then and said calmly, "You'll let me know what you need from me, won't you? Let me know how I can help you?"

Harry observed her for a moment; saw the quiet way her chin jutted forward as she challenged him silently to keep something from her. He marveled at the fact that he wouldn't hide from her now, as he would have months ago, and knew that if their situations were reversed he would ask the same openness from her.

"Yes," he answered honestly. "I'll tell you."

Ginny smiled at him brilliantly, her eyes sparkling, and Harry's heart stuttered at the picture she made, the firelight causing her hair and skin to glow with warm, radiant light. He leaned forward then to press his lips softly to hers, and he suppressed a smile when she stood up slightly on her toes to increase the contact and deepen the kiss. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugged her closer, and tried to memorize the way her body felt against his to ward off the negativity he knew was to follow this moment shortly. She pulled away after a moment and smiled up into his face, and then took a step back.

"I'll see you later, then," she said.

"Yeah, see you later," he agreed.

Her eyes focused on something over his shoulder then, and Harry started in surprise when she address Sirius, who had appeared in the doorway sometime without capturing Harry's attention.

"You'll take care of him?" she asked.

Sirius smiled at her, a touch sadly. "Always."

"Yourself, too," she said sternly then. "You're too skinny."

That startled a laugh out of Sirius, and he looked at her in amusement. "Sweet Merlin, you're turning into Molly. Give a guy a break, would you? I spent twelve years in prison."

"Yes, well," Ginny said in mock severity. "That's no excuse." She smiled then, kissed Harry quickly one last time, and exited the room.

"Well, that was interesting," Sirius commented mildly. Harry blushed, and wondered how long his godfather had been in the room.

"Ready?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Alright," Sirius said, drawing on his ability to hide his emotions in order to speak steadily and not betray the trepidation and regret that were coursing through him. "Come in here."

Harry entered Sirius' bedroom, which had been modified momentarily for their purposes. All of the furniture had been shrunk and put safely into a trunk, and the floor and walls had been softened with cushioning charms that Harry could only make out if he unfocused his eyes and squinted into the distance. Remus was seated in a corner of the room, back pressed against one wall and his wand at the ready, and he gave him a reassuring smile when Harry met his gaze. Harry smiled back slightly, but couldn't hold it for very long.

Sirius had walked into the room ahead of him, and Harry jumped slightly when the door shut behind him of its own accord. Sirius' back was turned to him, head bowed, and Harry could see that behind his short ponytail the muscles of his neck were strained, standing out in tension. Sirius was dressed casually too, wearing a t-shirt similar to Harry's and loose, comfortable track pants. Harry had been momentarily startled to see Sirius this way, dressed easily and with his hair pulled back messily. It made him look younger, Harry thought idly, and mused that he could see a vague trace of the twenty-one-year old man Sirius had been before he had gone to Azkaban. Harry snapped his mind back into focus when Sirius broke the silence and spoke.

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" Sirius asked, head turned to the side so that Harry could just see his profile.

"Yes," he said, even as his palms started to sweat and his stomach fluttered nervously.

Sirius nodded, and then said, "Try to remember where you are, Harry. You're here with Remus and I, at Hogwarts, nowhere else. You're sixteen."

"Okay," Harry said.

"I won't let anything happen to you," Sirius said, fiercely.

"I know," Harry breathed.

No one moved for a split second and there was utter and complete silence in the room that was so deafening Harry opened his mouth to break it, but before he could Sirius had turned around and raised his wand steadily and had stated in a clear voice, "_Legilimens_."

Nothing happened for a moment and Harry pictured Sirius' energy streaking through the air, and then all at once he was on his knees as vertigo so strong sent him into waves of nausea that coursed through him and turned his insides in circles. The world faded out from in front of him and colors blurred across his vision quickly into a dizzying mess. He could vaguely feel his right elbow connect with the floor and was distantly grateful for the cushioning charms, but then he couldn't think anymore because his uncle's voice was shatteringly loud inside his eardrums.

"What's all this fuss about?" Uncle Vernon shouted angrily, his face the nasty puce color it was prone to turning any time he looked at Harry. "Stop making that racket!"

And Harry was trying to be quiet, really he was, but he had burned himself on the stove trying to reach into the pot but he was too small and he couldn't see, and his arm was an angry, blistering red and he couldn't stop the whimpers from escaping his throat or the tears from running down his face.

"I'm s-sorry," Harry hiccupped, reaching again for the spoon because he had to finish cooking or Dudley would punch him, but Uncle Vernon had reached out and wrapped his meaty fingers around the thin length of arm, their pressure on his scorching skin making him cry harder as he was dragged out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

"Not yet you're not," Uncle Vernon growled, and Harry felt his head connect with the back wall of his cupboard as he was thrown roughly inside and locked up into the dark as the door slammed shut. Harry started sobbing in earnest, curling himself up into a tiny ball on the little cot his Aunt Petunia had given him and covering himself with a worn, holey blanket as he waited for sleep to come.

And then Harry was confused because Dudley was kicking him, but he couldn't figure out why because he had just been crying in his cupboard and now he was outside with Dudley's foot beating into his ribs and he was bigger now, but his head still hurt from where he had hit it against the wall. One ache blended into the other until he was a mass of bruises and blood, and he couldn't see because his glasses were gone and the only thing in his vision were the blurred blades of grass in front of his nose.

But before Dudley's foot had disconnected with his side he was being held up by the scruff of his neck and yanked once again down the hallway by Uncle Vernon, and before he was thrown into his cupboard he was slammed up against the wall and had felt spittle fleck across his cheek as Uncle Vernon had hissed into his ear that, "There's no such thing as magic." When the cupboard door slammed shut this time, Harry settled himself down onto his cot with a weary acceptance that had formed after years of being shut away into the dark.

That weary acceptance turned to anger and furious humiliation as he watched green ink melt and change the color of the flames from orange to pale turquoise, and they licked at the letters of his name hungrily and devoured the contents of the only letter he had ever received in his life. Through his humiliation Harry felt vaguely that this had already happened to him once, that there was something important he was supposed to remember but he couldn't, because everything was blurring in front of his mind's eye. He couldn't tell how old he was anymore because suddenly the pain from his arm from that time he had burned himself came back and mingled in with his longing for his burning letter and he couldn't tell if he had burned his arm on a pot or if he had reached into the flames to try to grab the old, faded looking paper before it disintegrated.

And then Harry was falling, rushing through a dark, tangled web of color that was so thick it seemed to suffocate him and Harry remembered with a jolt that he wasn't six, or eight, or even eleven—he was sixteen. That's what he was supposed to remember—that he was sixteen, and he was at Hogwarts, and he was learning Occlumency. Harry tried his best to latch on to the fact and use it to ground himself, tried to locate the presence in his mind that he could feel rooting through his brain so furiously and quickly that it was moving on before Harry could even begin to sense it, and then his head was clearing as he fell into another image.

Harry looked around and felt his stomach drop in panic as he dove behind a headstone to avoid a jet of green light that shot towards him from the darkness. His scar burst into flames, searing pain in his forehead adding to the existing pressure of a foreign presence tearing through his brain, and Harry screamed and quickly forgot anything beyond the excruciating pain that was slicing through his body and ripping him into shreds. He clenched his teeth and growled, fighting to gain control over his body, and after several moments of thrashing he managed to push himself up onto his hands and knees and peer out around the side of the headstone. There was the cauldron—he could see it now, bubbling ominously, and Voldemort was standing next to it, risen again, walking towards him with a sinister, eager expression. Harry felt his heart galloping, felt his denial that this could be happening—_No, no, no_, his head was saying over and over again—and he shot a disarming spell out and then turned and ran, faster than he ever had before, and the burning in his legs added to the pain in his lungs and he kept running until he tripped over something rigid, landed face first in the dirt. He turned to see what he had fallen over and came face to face with lifeless blue eyes and tousled, dirty hair. The cold, dead face of Cedric Diggory stared back at him, and Harry felt his stomach roll over and he grabbed Cedric's arm with one hand and summoned the Cup with the other and heard himself sob and Voldemort roar as they portkeyed away from the cemetery.

The falling sensation again, and this time it took Harry longer to realize where he was. He distantly heard himself wretching, felt his body convulsing as it forced bile out of his empty stomach, and had only enough time to wish he had never agreed to this before he was thrust into another scene.

He was in his bed and a warm hand was tangled in his hair, and Harry sobbed with relief that he was in Ginny's arms, his head resting against her chest beneath her chin as she spoke softly to him and traced his scalp and back lightly with her fingertips. Harry closed his eyes gratefully, convinced himself that the awful Occlumency lesson was over and he had fallen asleep after it, that he was waking up now in Ginny's arms and he didn't have to think about anything painful anymore—that he could revel here, surrounded by warmth and contentment and Ginny.

But when Ginny stiffened suddenly and her hands stopped moving he tilted his head up to look at her and jerked away in alarm. Her eyes were closed and her face was getting younger, her features softening into those of a child. The warmth was seeping out of her body quickly and Harry started to shiver as a damp, unwelcome wetness started to cling to his bones and his bed turned a nasty shade of grey before fading into the slick, bone-ridden floor of the Chamber of Secrets. He looked up when footsteps approached him, saw the image of Tom Riddle before him, and he tried desperately to wake Ginny up when it seemed as though Tom wouldn't help him and felt fear rise up within him when he realized that Tom was an enemy and not a friend. Then he was fighting a basilisk, feeling it's hot breath on the back of his neck, and when he finally managed to kill it his arm exploded in pain as a tooth impaled it. He ripped it out, drove it instead into the diary before him and watched in satisfaction as the image of Tom Riddle melted away, and he smiled as Ginny woke up even as he could feel the life leaking away from him.

Darkness. He was falling, and there was no end. He wanted to land, wanted to hit the ground and die, but he couldn't. Everything hurt, and he wanted to die. He couldn't feel anything but the pain, and he wanted to die. He heard a soft, familiar voice say urgently, "Remember where you are, Harry," and he latched on to it but couldn't place it, couldn't place where he knew it from or why it comforted him and reminded him of tea and old books.

But then he didn't need to remember because he was watching two transformations; watching a vicious, furious werewolf force it's way through his gentle Professor's scarred skin and watching Peter Pettigrew smirk viciously at him as he shrunk and skittered away on four tiny feet. And then he was racing down the hill to where Sirius was lying by the side of the lake, bleeding from multiple cuts and bites, and he was shaking and his teeth were chattering and he thought to himself as the Dementors closed in that he had finally found a family member and even though he couldn't live with him, he could at least die with him.

And then there was silence, and the stark contrast made Harry's mind reel and forced his senses into overdrive. The silence seemed sickly instead of comforting, and Harry felt his head spin as the lakefront morphed quickly into a room with four plain walls, lit only by a small, chipped light that sat on a dilapidated desk. A tiny, messy bed rested against one wall, and a birdcage sat upon a desk of drawers against another wall. A brilliant snowy owl was perched on the back of the desk chair, amber eyes peering anxiously into the darkness in a corner of the room as she twittered and snapped her beak. The darkness faded slightly to reveal the form of a teenaged boy who sat leaning against the wall, his legs drawn up and his head buried in his arms, which were resting against his knees. The boy didn't move for long moments, didn't shift or twitch or _breathe_, and a lifelessness emanated from him and washed the room with a sense of despair. Harry felt the wall against his back, felt his glasses digging into his face from where he was leaning on them, and acknowledged the sense of a dark, familiar anxiety clawing at his chest, a self-hatred so strong that he wanted to scratch and scratch and scratch until everything that made him _him_ leaked out onto the floor and disappeared. He ignored the sharp rapping on the door, and when it came again and the door opened, he lifted his head slowly and looked out from under his fringe through haunted, glassy eyes. Those sunken green eyes glared out of a pale face, lank lines of inky hair brushing across his famous scar, and his voice was scratchy from disuse and it grated against his throat as he said, "Get out."

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. He was lost, and he didn't know where he was supposed to be or how to find it. A growing sense of desperation was rising up inside of him, and a panic so strong was shaking through him that he thought he would shatter and fall apart into a million pieces. Something was inside of him, something that wasn't supposed to be there, and he wanted it _out_. He was beyond reason, beyond rational thought, and all that remained was instinct. And every instinct he had was screaming at him to force whatever it was out, to push it and shove it and tear it apart and get it _out out out_ of his head.

Harry ducked as a spell whizzed over his shoulder, and was startled when a body followed him to the ground. Neville was beside him, blood dripping down his face, and shouting and spell fire were riddling the air with noise. His head snapped up as he heard Sirius' voice over the din, hearing it clearly as though nothing else was happening in the room. He felt himself moving, felt his feet running down the steps as Bellatrix laughed and shot a curse at Sirius that hit him straight in the chest, and Harry's throat was tearing as he screamed out Sirius' name as his godfather fell behind a fluttering, black veil that seemed to suck his body into it as though it had every right to it when really, it belonged to Harry, couldn't it see that? He was almost there, was already planning to grab the edge of Sirius' robes and pull him back, or thrust his arm through the other side of the Veil because Sirius had only just gone through and he was just on the other side, surely, but then a strong arm was wrapped around his chest and he was struggling against it and hating it and then he was racing after Bellatrix Lestrange to curse her with everything he had.

Panic amplified. Desperation increased. He thrashed, strained every muscle in his body, felt them all protest. Decided his body wasn't enough, delved deeper, searching, searching. _Get it out, get it out._ His head would explode soon. Fact. He searched, and searched, and found a dormant pool of light inside, sparkling, untouched, and dove for it. _Get it out. It hurts. It makes me hurt. Get it out. _Grabbed the light and tugged at it, coaxed it out of hiding and felt a powerful, familiar flare of magic answer him, wash over him and shoot crackling rays of magic out into the darkness that was smothering him. He felt the thing inside his head, felt the searing magic, tried to connect the two. _Get out. Please. Get out. _Connect. Connect. He shoved, strained, pleaded. Sobbed…

And then he gasped. The floor was beneath him and his eyes opened but he couldn't see because he was still sobbing but it was real this time, it was real and it wasn't inside his head and he had never been so grateful to be curled up into a ball on the floor before. Warm hands were lifting him from the floor urgently, tugging him against a solid chest and squeezing, holding him tightly, but it wasn't enough. He shook and shook and shook, the chill from his tortured mind dripping down and freezing the rest of him. When another body slid behind him and pressed up against his back it sent heat seeping into him from all sides of his body, and he felt his shivers quiet a bit but he kept crying, didn't think he would ever be able to stop. Images played themselves over and over and over again, and he couldn't close his eyes because if he did they would be clearer, so he cried with his eyes open and let his tears soak the front of Sirius' shirt.

More awareness came back to him as they sat there, pressed against each other, and Harry wrapped his arms around Sirius and held on, used his grip and Sirius' broad body to anchor himself in the room and not inside his head. He pressed himself as close as he could to Sirius, needing to feel something solid and alive, needing to hear his heartbeat to reassure himself that he was in a world that had a physical existence instead of a mental one, and was infinitely grateful for Remus' perception when he pressed himself forward as well, encasing Harry snuggly between their two bodies. They sat there, and Harry continued to cry and shake for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, when his body grew tired of shaking and his eyes were unable to produce any more tears, Harry quieted and allowed exhaustion to sweep over him. His limbs turned heavy and sluggish, and he let Sirius and Remus hold him up, rested his weight on them completely. The silence was broken only by his occasional sniffle; he was too tired to lift his hand to wipe his nose. He stared at the wall, unseeing, and let his mind be blank. It had been torn into—cut open and ravaged—and now it was empty.

Empty, but for one question.

"Did it work?"

Sirius' chest vibrated against Harry's cheek when he answered. "Yes."

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A/N: TBC soon! Review if you feel so inclined :)


	25. Chapter 24

A/N: Again, I apologize for the long wait. Such is real life, unfortunately. Before you read this chapter, please read the following warning and understand the full meaning behind it before proceeding:

**CHILD ABUSE WARNING. **

This is not a happy chapter, and makes many references to child abuse. If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, please skip this chapter. Other than that, I hope you enjoy this next chapter (in the sort of way in which you love dark, angsty things), and that you have a good holiday if you live in America.

Xoxo,

Willow Ann

***

Sirius' eyebrows were drawn down low and the muscles in his neck and shoulders were tense, locking him up and forcing upon his movements a stiffness that was unnatural and born of exhaustion and pain. He was sitting on the side of his bed—Harry's bed, for now—gazing at his godson as he slept fitfully. Harry's features were pinched and his head moved restlessly from side to side, but he didn't wake. Sirius watched him quietly, watched as his godson's fear persisted even into sleep, and he reached out a hand to brush damp hair off Harry's fevered forehead.

"How's he doing?" Remus' voice asked gently from behind him, and Sirius turned to find his friend leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom, looking pale and weary.

"He's got a fever," Sirius answered, and then cleared his throat briefly because it was hoarse from disuse and worry.

Remus frowned and approached the bed to lay the back of one hand against Harry's cheek, then forehead. A small, surprised noise left his throat at the unhealthy heat of the skin beneath his fingers, and he took out his wand and aimed it at the sheets, casting a cooling charm on them quickly and efficiently. Harry's small, anxious movements stilled for a moment before he shuddered violently, and his teeth began to chatter slightly as a new sheen of sweat seemed to appear on his skin in a matter of seconds.

"We should call Poppy," Remus said. Sirius didn't answer, just nodded numbly as he reached out a hand and let it rest gently on the curve where Harry's neck met his shoulder, and his thumb traced absently over the pulse point in Harry's throat where he could feel his godson's heartbeat fluttering quickly against his skin. He felt Remus' presence disappear from his side, and he dropped his head to let it hang heavily on his shoulders, his dry, burning eyes closing tightly to block out the afternoon light filtering in through the window. He snatched his wand from the bedside table and threw a sudden burst of magic at it and was grimly satisfied when he heard the faint cracking of glass even as the curtains drew themselves hastily together. He jumped when a gentle hand touched his shoulder minutes later, and he turned to find Poppy standing beside him with Remus lingering in the doorway.

"Sirius," Poppy said soothingly, reaching out to uncurl his tense fingers from their death-grip around his wand. "He's going to be fine. Let me have a look at him and we'll see what we can do."

Sirius nodded and didn't move, and then realized after several silent moments that she was looking at him expectantly. He raised his eyebrows at her in silent inquiry, gave her a look that said to Poppy '_Well what are you waiting for?' _and she marveled to herself silently that she had come to understand the three men of this makeshift family so thoroughly that she could hear their questions and protests even when they didn't speak.

"You need to let me take care of him for a while so that you can take care of yourself. You look terrible," Poppy stated, and cut Sirius off as he opened his mouth to deny her accusation. "I'll examine Harry _alone_, and you can take the time to eat. And sleep. And catch up on the needs of your own body that you've been neglecting for a week," she said firmly. "Now shoo."

Sirius looked at her for a moment longer before nodding his head, and he gave her a small smile as he hauled himself to his feet.

"Thanks, Poppy," he murmured as he walked past her, and Poppy watched him meet Remus at the doorway and waited until the two figures receded and shut the door behind them before she turned back to her patient. She then took out her wand and bent forward slightly in concentration, preparing to work on Harry Potter for possibly the hundredth time.

***

When Madame Pomfrey answered Ginny's knock on the now familiar door of Sirius' quarters, she felt her stomach drop through her feet and get swallowed up by the floor as a rush of panic washed through her so strongly that it took her breath away.

"What happened?" she asked breathlessly. "Is he okay?"

Madame Pomfrey smiled at her gently and stepped out of the doorway, allowing her into the chambers. "He's fine," she answered steadily. "Just a bit worked up, is all."

"Can I see him?" Ginny asked, standing in the middle of the room and looking lost and very much like a little girl instead of the almost-woman she seemed to be on a more regular basis. Poppy felt her heart clench in sympathy and fear for the girl before her; though she hated to acknowledge it, Poppy felt as though loving Harry Potter got a little bit harder every day. The number of people who wanted to hurt him rose and seemed to be gaining power steadily, despite the best efforts of the Order, and the people around him had to fight a little harder with each passing moment to keep him alive. She nodded at Ginny and forced a small smile onto her face as she ushered her easily into Sirius' cozy bedroom where Harry was finally dozing peacefully. He must have been awake enough to sense Ginny's presence because when she sat in the chair Poppy had just vacated, his eyes opened evenly and he looked at her for a moment with eyes that were vacant and empty for only a second before they warmed with recognition, and a tired grin stretched out across his gaunt face and lit it up with a boyish charm that he seemed to have inherited from his father and godfather. And as Poppy peered in at them from the doorway, watched their quiet interaction and saw the way they teased each other gently to ease the other's worry, Poppy decided that the fight was worth it, and that she would keep fighting a seemingly endless and impossible war for herself and for Harry and for the Wizarding World as a whole for as long as she had breath in her body.

***

Sirius watched the smoke from his cigarette curl out into the night sky above him, tracked its progress as it dissipated into the night's coolness and wondered if he himself was also drifting away into the ether. He didn't know how long he had been here by himself on top of the Astronomy Tower—long enough for the remnants of the day's winter sunlight to fade into deep black, and as he laid on his back against the cold, unforgiving stone his eyes automatically sought out the bright light of his namesake. It twinkled at him merrily, mocked its earthly counterpart viciously, and Sirius suddenly hated it almost as much as he hated himself.

A strange numbness had come over him, had replaced the churning, sickly anxiety that had plagued him since he had forced Harry to relive his most terrifying memories, and the contrast was stark and absolute. Sirius thought vaguely that perhaps he should be worried about the sudden change, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything with that thought.

"I haven't seen you smoke since you were twenty-one," Remus' voice said from behind him, and Sirius tilted his head backwards against the floor of the Tower to peer at his friend from an odd angle. Remus had a thing, Sirius thought, for appearing in doorways unannounced. Sirius wondered briefly if his friend's eerie ability was connected to lycanthropy before deciding it had more to do with Remus himself; he had always been good at sneaking around, Sirius remembered, and the corners of his lips lifted slightly as he recalled the many ways they had used that ability to cause chaos throughout the castle as students.

"There's not much opportunity for smoking in prison," Sirius answered, and took another drag from the cigarette dangling between his fingers. He heard Remus' footsteps cross softly across the stone floor, and then he was briefly at eye-level with worn out, brown shoes before Remus was sliding down the side of the nearest turret to sit within Sirius' line of sight. There was silence for long moments then, Sirius flicking his cigarette agitatedly and staring at the stars while Remus picked idly at a thread on his sleeve. They could be seventeen again, Sirius thought, sitting up here in a comfortable silence, maybe waiting for James to join them. He could almost hear James' footsteps getting louder as they scrambled up the stairs, his voice speaking excitedly from the stairwell because he couldn't contain whatever story he had to tell long enough to actually make it to the top of the Tower, and Sirius turned his head to stare at the doorway. It looked empty and dismally lonely, standing by itself in the middle of the cold stone, and the heavy wooden door stayed firmly shut despite the fact that Sirius needed it to open, needed James to open it.

But James wasn't here now to drag Sirius to his feet and snap him out of whatever funk he was in, like he had so often. He wasn't even in the castle, or meandering the hallways with Lily, or sitting in the common room helping a first year with Transfiguration. James was dead, encased in the frozen ground and completely unaware of the fact that his best friend and son were falling apart. Sirius closed his eyes against the sudden sting there, turned his head to hide his face as a longing for James washed through him more fiercely than it had since his death, and Sirius could feel his torso start to tremble.

He was startled out of his thoughts, though, when sudden warmth settled over him like a blanket, simultaneously bringing his mind to the present moment and easing the chill that had seeped into his body without him realizing it. He snapped his head around and looked at Remus, who was sitting against the wall watching him with knowing eyes. Sirius stared at him for a moment, knew instinctually that his friend was aware that he was wishing for James even as he sat here with Remus, and Sirius felt his eyebrows tug down as guilt bloomed in his chest and he shrugged helplessly at him.

"It's not—" he began, but Remus cut him off with a shake of his head.

"I know," he answered softly. "James always knew how to pick you back up."

"He did," Sirius answered, at once filled with incurable sadness and tenderness so complete that he ached. "So do you."

When Sirius and Remus returned to their rooms from their Poppy-induced exile, Sirius moved right through the front room without pausing and into his bedroom, needing to check once again on Harry. His breath whooshed out of him when he saw that his godson was awake, chatting in a way with Ginny that indicated they were entranced in a world that belonged only to the two of them, and at that moment they looked so much like James and Lily that Sirius' knees almost gave out beneath him. He stood just inside the shadow of the doorway for a moment, his breath caught in his throat, and then took a quick step backwards out of the room and pressed his back up against the wall beside the door. He could feel Remus watching him curiously as he leaned his head back against the wall and fought to take a breath, to move through a grief that never seemed to lessen, and he looked back at his friend and shook his head grimly, helplessly, unable to find a way of moving forward.

"What is it?" Remus asked, voice soft and concerned as he took a step towards his friend.

Sirius choked around his voice, unable to say what he wanted—that he missed them, he missed them so damn much every day and he didn't know what to do with their son because he felt like he was losing him every passing second, that he was afraid Harry would suffer the way he did after Dumbledore had ripped his own mind apart and maybe he wouldn't come back from it, and said instead, "Nothing."

"Sirius—" Remus began, and reached a hand out towards him but Sirius darted out of the way before he could be reached and went to stand in front of the window, his back to his friend, shoulders hard and tense.

"I didn't want anyone to ever know how it feels," Sirius offered softly. He was silent for a moment, and Remus could feel his friend's anxiety emanating out through his body and into the room, making him feel slightly sick with sympathy.

"To have your mind _raped_," Sirius whispered thickly. "Being forced to believe you're experiencing your worst moments over again. Not just… remembering them," he clarified, voice haunted, "_living_ them. They all happen again, and all at the same time, and when it's over it leaves you in pieces."

Sirius' shoulders shook, and his head dropped down to hang low on his neck. Remus studied his friend's back, watched the muscles there tense in a pain that he could never understand, and felt utterly helpless. He approached his friend quietly, feet soft on the plush carpet of their warm, comfortable sitting room, and when he reached a hand out again Sirius didn't pull away from it.

"Sirius," he said lowly, "I can't… say anything about what the process did _to_ you, but what it did for you… Sirius, it _worked_ for you. It nearly killed you, but it worked. Your parents never got into your head again after that. And it will work for Harry, too. He'll keep Voldemort out now, you'll see."

Sirius blew air softly out of his nose in a small, sardonic gesture. "And? Is it worth it?"

"It is to him," Remus said sharply. "He lost you because of a false vision. You _died_. Do you understand that?" Remus squeezed the shoulder beneath his hand hard enough to hurt. "Of course it's bloody worth it. He did it for you, because you're everything to him."

Sirius was silent for a moment, and Remus could see his eyes shifting back and forth quickly as he thought. "Maybe…," he said slowly, "maybe I shouldn't be. Maybe he'd be better off without me."

"Please don't," Harry's voice cut in from behind them, low and shaking slightly with intensity. "Don't say that."

The two men whipped around, startled out of their conversation by Harry's unexpected appearance in the sitting room. He was standing just outside the door to Sirius' bedroom, in his pajamas with his hair hanging limply down over his still-sweaty forehead. His face had an unnatural pallor clinging to it and dark rings had settled beneath his eyes that looked as if they had been painted on with a brush. But his eyes were bright, shining with anger and something else that Sirius couldn't name, and Sirius stepped forward and reached a supportive hand out towards Harry's elbow. Harry yanked it away, unconsciously mirroring his godfather's actions of just a few moments ago, and Remus was once again overwhelmed by the similarities between the two men before him. Sirius snatched his hand back as though burned, and crushing hurt washed over his face briefly before he visibly forced his features blank. Harry immediately looked apologetic, recognizing his godfather's reactions instantly, and he let out a breath and seemed to deflate, the shimmering anger in his visage dimming until he looked merely tired, and small.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just... you can't say things like that. They're not true, and they scare me." He said this simply, too tired to be embarrassed or ashamed.

"I don't mean to scare you," Sirius replied, voice earnest. "I just… I promised myself I wouldn't ever leave you again, after last time. I promised _you_. But… if that's not what's best for you—"

"It is what's best for me," Harry stated.

When Sirius only looked at him, eyes uncertain and painfully conflicted, Harry ducked his head and spoke his next words hesitantly.

"I'm in here enough to hear you two talking, sometimes," he said softly, "and I think that something… _unusual_ happened to you, after Dumbledore did that kind of Legilimency on you. Is that true?" He looked at the floor steadily, unwilling to meet Sirius' eyes.

Sirius opened his mouth to answer him, but no words came out. Harry fidgeted as he waited for Sirius to find his voice, but it wouldn't come and as the silence stretched out an itchy, uncomfortable sense of unease started to rise up inside Sirius' chest, until finally the tension was broken by Remus.

"That's true, Harry," he said softly.

Harry's eyes darted up, and then moved back and forth between the two men quickly, sharp and calculating. He waited for a moment and then nodded his head slightly in acceptance when no explanation seemed to be forthcoming, and then stepped forward until he was standing in front of Sirius.

"Whatever happened to you isn't going to happen to me," he said, and Sirius' eyes snapped up from where they had, like Harry's, been studying the floor intently. Astonishment washed through him at Harry's sense of intuition, at the fact that he had somehow managed to pick up on the _exact_ source of Sirius' worry, and his sense of wonder must have made its way onto his face because Harry smiled at him in gentle amusement.

"I do know you, Sirius," he said, his voice lightly teasing, but his face was serious and empathetic when Sirius reached out and dragged a hand across his hair quickly and then let it rest on the side of his head, expression awed and grateful.

"No more talk of leaving, yeah?" Harry asked. "You did it to help me. It won't be like it was for you." His voice was firm, reassuring.

Sirius only nodded again, and wondered when his godson had learned to read him as easily as he could Harry.

***

Later that night, Remus found Sirius once again lying on his back on the couch with a myriad of sparkling figures floating about his head. As he moved across the room to sit in his chair, he got a look at Sirius' face and although it was tainted various colors from the floating images above it, he recognized the expression there instantly.

"You're plotting," Remus accused, eyes narrowed at his friend as he settled down into the chair beside the couch. It was odd, he thought, how habitual he and Sirius both were. It made it easy to live together, he mused vaguely, and then dismissed the thought as irrelevant.

Sirius' head in the meantime had turned towards him quickly and his face had adopted a pointedly not-plotting expression. "Am not!" he protested, sounding convincingly offended. If Remus hadn't known him for so long, he might apologize and feel vaguely guilty but as it was, he had known Sirius for a very long time and wasn't fooled in the slightest.

Remus snorted at him. "Sirius. You have your "I'm-plotting-ways-to-take-over-the-world-with-a-fork-and-ten-galleons" face on. I learned to be wary of that face in first year, you think I don't recognize it now?"

Sirius scowled at him for a moment before turning his face back towards the animated images above him. "That should have worked," he said petulantly, and Remus couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up out of his throat.

"You had a fork and ten galleons, Sirius," he said, amused.

"Exactly!" Sirius exclaimed, sounding completely affronted by the idea that his world domination plan had, in fact, failed. There was silence for a moment in the room, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire before Sirius let out a soft sigh and offered, "I'm not plotting. More… scheming," he said speculatively, and a strange note came into his voice that set the hairs on the back of Remus' neck standing up. "Plotting is too innocent a word for it, I think. More like payback."

"Sirius Black," Remus said sternly, alarm bells jangling inside his head, "whatever it is you're thinking of doing, _don't_."

"Stop your fussing," Sirius snapped at him, patience gone and calm suddenly shattered. "I won't be reckless."

"That's not true and you know it," Remus threw back.

"They deserve it," Sirius bit out, clearly agitated, and the shapes above him exploded in a violent shower of sparks as he ripped a hand through them.

"Who is _they_?" Remus asked, frustrated and utterly confounded as to where his friend's anger had come from.

Sirius sat up quickly and looked at him darkly from beneath his brows and growled out, "Those stupid muggles. The Dursleys."

Remus froze, caught off guard entirely by the seemingly random answer and at the hatred with which it was delivered. "The Dursleys," he stated, wrapping his mind around it slowly, shifting his focus and trying to catch up with his friend's mind. "Harry's family, you mean."

Sirius shot to his feet, suddenly furious, cheekbones flushed with color. "They are _not_ his family!" he said dangerously, and Remus instantly stood as well and reached out a placating hand.

"I only meant by blood, Sirius, I didn't mean—," he began, but was cut off by his friend.

"Blood has nothing to do with it," Sirius said, voice bitter and aching, and Remus wished at once that he could take his words back.

"I know," Remus said softly. "I know that. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," he finished, and felt vaguely sick with himself for having inadvertently brought up both memories of Sirius' own horrid family and for poking at an insecurity that had yet to heal over Sirius' guardianship of his godson.

"Just… sit, yeah?" Remus asked, a faint note of pleading in his voice. "Tell me why you're angry with them. Maybe I can help you."

"I don't want your help if you're going to tell me not to do it," Sirius said, considering his friend warily.

"I'll only tell you that after you've explained, and only if I really think you shouldn't," Remus answered honestly.

Sirius looked at him for a moment, eyes suspicious and temper only barely reined in, and as Remus looked at his friend he felt suddenly furious himself only he was angry with Azkaban, and with Peter, and with a government that was corrupt. He was broken out of his hazy anger when Sirius sat abruptly and let out his breath in a whoosh of air, suddenly deflated.

"I saw what they did to him," Sirius said simply. "I saw."

Remus felt confused for a moment, and exhausted from trying to keep up with a brain that shifted it's focus so quickly and completely, and didn't realize right away that Sirius was referring to the memories he had seen inside Harry's head.

"You saw Harry as a child?" he asked, voice slightly awed and just a little bit envious.

"I saw him at every age, at his worst moments," Sirius replied. "I heard from Molly that they didn't treat him well, and Harry hinted at it but you know him—he'd never actually come out and say it and I … I didn't really _know_," Sirius said, voice incredulous. His eyes were wide as he thought, face utterly vulnerable and voice laced with shock as he said, "They abused him, Rem. It wasn't just… unpleasantness. It was abuse."

Remus' stomach sank as Sirius said these words, and suddenly he wasn't at all envious that Sirius had gotten to glimpse Harry as a child because he knew the memories would cause only grief and exasperate the already crushing guilt that was sitting in his chest over the fact that he had been living as a recluse while Harry was being mistreated and he hadn't reached out to him at all.

"How badly?" Remus asked even as he kicked himself for the question because nothing good would come of it, and it stemmed only from a self-masochistic desire to _know_.

"Badly enough," Sirius replied vaguely, hesitant to draw those memories up inside his head again, unwilling to see Harry wince in pain over burns and broken bones that hadn't had to happen.

"As bad as you?" Remus asked again, and he was pushing, he knew he was, and Sirius was going to get mad at him again but he couldn't stop himself. Sirius turned to look at him quickly and his expression was unreadable for long moments, but when he finally answered there was no anger in his voice, just an honesty so frank and brutal that Remus couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes briefly in an attempt to block it out.

"No," Sirius said. "Not as bad as me. But there's no measuring it, Remus. They hurt him."

"I know there's no measuring," Remus bit out, struggling to keep his own emotions in check now. "I just… I can't bear the thought and it gives me something to hold on to, that you turned out okay. More than okay. If you can come back from it then so can he," Remus said, and Sirius wasn't sure whether he was referring to his childhood or to the Legilimency but it was okay either way, he supposed, if it gave his friend something to ground himself with during a time when the Earth itself was being torn apart.

Remus exhaled quietly to himself, brought himself back together bit by bit, like reconstructing a fallen wall, and then gave Sirius a half-smile and asked, "What are we scheming, then?"

***

Harry was _scared_. That was the first thing he registered—a terror so intense racing through his body that even as he ran he felt completely paralyzed, as though hiding was an impossibility and he was doomed to be captured by whatever was chasing him. He didn't know what it was he was trying to run from, though, so he looked back over his shoulder and stopped breathing because Cedric Diggory was there, smiling his charming, easy grin that had made him so popular with the Hogwarts students, and his cheeks were pink with life. Harry stopped running, unsure why he was fleeing his classmate at all, and when Cedric caught up to him Harry offered him a smile.

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly. "I didn't know it was you."

"It's alright, Harry," Cedric replied. "How have you been?"

Harry tilted his head at the boy in front of him, thought vaguely that somehow this shouldn't be happening but couldn't say why, couldn't figure out why his brain seemed to be sending him warning signals or remember why it was odd that he was talking to Cedric.

"Fine," Harry answered, suspicion rising up in his gut and panic beginning to race through his veins again. "You?"

"Me?" Cedric asked innocently, face angelic. "I've been dead."

And then Harry remembered, remembered that Cedric _was_ dead, killed by Wormtail, and a horror came over Harry and he took a few rapid steps backwards.

"Cedric," he gasped out. "How?"

Cedric smiled at him and opened his mouth to answer but seemed to choke before he could get any words out and he dropped to the ground suddenly, writhing in pain. Harry quickly fell to his knees beside him and reached out a hand to his friend but paused just before he touched him, unsure what to do that would help him, and in his moment of hesitation something vicious and impatient flashed across Cedric's face. But it was gone just as suddenly and he was looking innocent and earnest once again, clenching his teeth against whatever it was that was plaguing him, and he choked out, "Won't you help me, Harry?"

"I don't know how!" Harry cried, anguished, and Cedric looked briefly victorious before he said,  
"Take my hand, Harry," and reached out one shaking palm towards him.

Harry looked at it for a moment, saw himself reaching the Triwizard Cup out towards Cedric and having them both take it, saw Cedric dead by Wormtail's wand, and then firmly told the warning bells in his head to _shut up_ because he had let Cedric die once and he didn't want to do it again. He clasped Cedric's hand in his own tightly, and Cedric stopped seizing and smiled at him brightly but this time there was something dark in his face, something evil.

"Thanks, Harry," he whispered, and Harry was confused for a moment before suddenly he couldn't breathe at all and it felt like he was being drained, like his very core was being sucked out of his body through his hand, and a chill that started in his fingers began creeping out into the rest of his body leaving only a dead, icy cold behind it. Cedric reached out his other hand and grabbed his shoulder, shook it roughly, and Harry sobbed and tried to yank it away but couldn't because it just held on to him more tightly except the hand was warm now, fighting the iciness that was threatening to overwhelm him, and it wasn't Cedric's voice speaking to him anymore.

"Harry!" Sirius said, voice urgent, and Harry recognized it now, recognized the hand on his shoulder to be his godfather's and not that of a life-sucking wraith, and opened his eyes abruptly and found himself looking up into Sirius' anxious face. "Are you alright?"

Harry was quiet for a moment, stunned, and took deep gasping breaths as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was in Sirius' bedroom, his for the time being, and the bedclothes were tangled around his body and damp with sweat. He sat up slowly and attempted to extricate himself, fumbled with the sheets and shivered as his sweat-coated pajamas stuck to his body. Sirius took out his wand and murmured at the sheets, and they disappeared entirely before new ones popped into the air above the bed, unfolded themselves, and then settled gently and neatly down onto Harry's lap. A few more quiet words and Harry's pajamas had dried themselves, and smelled faintly of cotton that had been let out to dry somewhere near the Burrow.

Harry sent his godfather a small, tired smile and croaked out, "Thanks." His eyebrows furrowed as pain laced its way down his throat from speaking, and he hunched in on himself a little bit as he realized the cause. "Was I screaming?" he asked, voice tentative.

Sirius looked at him, eyes searching Harry's face as though he could find a stamp of health there somewhere, and nodded at his godson blankly. Harry sighed in resignation and nodded his head slightly. "Thought so," he muttered. "Can always tell the next day."

Sirius made an unhappy noise low in his throat, conjured a squishy chair into being, and settled into it beside the bed. "I don't like that you recognize the feeling of screaming all night," he said softly.

Harry looked at him and shrugged. "It could be worse," he said, shoulders sagging slightly in exhaustion.

"Doesn't matter," Sirius said stubbornly. "I wish you didn't have to deal with it."

Harry smiled at him in a way that was half grateful and half amused, and as he flopped down onto the pillows again he said, "The nightmares used to be true; at least this one wasn't."

"True?" Sirius asked.

Harry was silent for a moment before he replied, voice low and still hoarse. "Over the summer," he said, "I dreamt of you falling behind the Veil. But… it wouldn't go away once I woke up. It would still be true, because it was a reality _and_ a nightmare."

Sirius looked at his godson, worn out and fragile looking as he fought to even sleep soundly through the night, and felt once again that he had failed somehow.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said, and his voice cracked in the middle of it.

Harry tutted at him, and had Sirius not been so upset he would have been vaguely amused at the Hermione-like gesture. "It's not your fault," Harry said. "It's okay."

"It isn't," Sirius insisted, and then froze as a memory rose up inside his mind's eye of Harry, sitting hunched in a corner of a dark room that felt haunted and dead, looking as though he was clinging to life against his will. "That memory," Sirius said. "The one of you sitting against a wall, with your knees pulled up." Sirius paused when he heard Harry inhale sharply through his nose, and when he looked down at his godson he saw that Harry's jaw was tense, his teeth clenched tightly together. "That was this summer," Sirius finished, not asking a question but rather stating a truth.

Harry nodded grimly at him, face pinched. He opened his jaw stiffly, made to speak, but it took him a few tries before he was able to manage. "I was afraid to sleep," he whispered, "because I would just see you fall again and again and again… but when I was awake it felt as though someone had punched me through the chest and his fist had gone straight through." Harry paused for a moment, and his eyes were very far away, looking back on a place that Sirius couldn't see, and his voice was vague as he finished, "So I just… sat there, against the wall. Not asleep or awake, just existing."

There was absolute silence for a moment after that, Harry lost inside his head and Sirius unable to move because of the horror and guilt that was consuming him. Finally Sirius asked, "You spoke to someone. Who…?" he trailed off, voice too tight to continue.

Harry looked at him and his eyes seemed to come back into focus as he answered a bit more clearly. "My Aunt Petunia. She came in," he said, voice somewhat perturbed. "Dunno what for. It was odd really, because she never comes in."

Sirius made no response, only scrubbed a hand over his face and hung his head, feeling as though every bone in his body was aching with emotion and exhaustion.

"Sirius," Harry said, and Sirius lifted his head in response but kept his hand over the bottom half of his face, simultaneously supporting his head in his palm as he rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and attempting to hide his lack of composure. Now that Harry had his attention, however, he didn't know what to say to ease the look of utter distress in his godfather's eyes. He grappled for words, for something to do, and eventually decided there was nothing he could say.

"Maybe…" he said hesitantly. "Maybe being Padfoot would help." He offered the suggestion on a hunch that perhaps changing species would mute Sirius' emotions somewhat, and Harry didn't know if that was accurate at all but there was a small _pop!_ and then a very large, shaggy dog was hopping up onto the bed and curling up by his feet, resting his chin across one of Harry's ankles. Harry bent a little to scratch the dog behind his ears and then said quietly, "Get some sleep." He then laid down himself and was asleep again within moments, nightmares forgotten as Padfoot's warmth stayed steady beside him.

When Harry woke again, sunlight was streaming into the room in thin rays as it spilled through a crack in the shades, and dust was whirling through it slowly, calmly, making its way down from the ceiling to the bed in a meandering sort of way. Harry watched it evenly, brain quiet, and he felt still in a way that he hadn't since before Sirius had done Legilimency on him over a week ago. He turned his eyes to the large, shaggy dog that was still sleeping on the foot of his bed, snuffling softly and paws twitching slightly every few moments. Harry felt his lips quirk slightly at the sight, and he wondered if Padfoot was dreaming, and whether or not the dreams were in color as Sirius' would be. His thoughts mulled over his godfather slowly as he watched the sleeping dog, and Harry felt a tugging curiosity rise up and try to break through his unusual calm. He fought it, unwilling to give up his current serenity or to pry into an event in Sirius' life that still seemed to haunt him, but the desire to know still niggled at him, teased him. Harry had no idea what could have happened to Sirius to make his Legilimency experience _worse_ than it had to be; it seemed to Harry that nothing could be worse than the process itself, that there was no possible way any person could handle something more cruel or intense than being mentally invaded and torn apart.

But it had happened. Harry couldn't understand how, but he trusted Sirius enough to know that he wasn't lying. Even if Remus hadn't confirmed it to him, hadn't told him something strange had happened, the pain in Sirius' face every time he had to think about it was sharp and brutal, and it made Harry's chest tighten each time he saw it. Harry was startled out of his reverie when Padfoot yawned widely, open mouth accompanied by an inadvertent and contented-sounding whine. Both paws went over his nose afterwards and he looked vaguely as though he was protesting being awake and Harry couldn't help chuckling slightly; dog-shaped or not, that was still Sirius.

"Morning," Harry said, and Padfoot's head came up and grinned at him, tongue lolling out to one side. The dog stood on the bed suddenly and leaped off of it, and when he landed on his feet he was Sirius again, looking vaguely disheveled but happy enough.

"Hallo," Sirius drawled. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine," Harry answered. "Good, actually. Better."

Sirius' face was instantly relieved, and a wide smile broke out across his face.

"Excellent," Sirius replied. "Are you hungry?"

Harry opened his mouth to say no but then caught himself, and realized that for the first time in days he _was _hungry.

"Yeah," Harry said, voice a little puzzled but pleased.

"Good," Sirius answered. "Why don't you get dressed, and we'll eat in the sitting room."

Harry nodded in agreement, and when he entered the sitting room twenty minutes later he felt refreshed and awake, no longer fever-groggy as he had been for the past few days. No matter how many cleaning charms people threw at him, Harry thought, he was still convinced that spellwork-clean didn't feel as good as shower-clean. Sirius had clearly showered as well, as his hair was damp and tied back into a small ponytail that was dripping water down the back of his white button-down.

"Are you teaching today?" Harry asked, nodding at his godfather's shirt.

Sirius looked up at him over his tea, eyes scanning Harry's face for signs of health. "Maybe," he answered casually. "You look better," he commented.

"I told you I feel better," Harry teased, and Sirius snorted at him.

"Indeed you did," Sirius said wryly, "but I've learned that you don't always tell the truth when it comes to your well-being."

Harry shrugged at him and plopped down onto the couch, not willing to protest a statement he knew was true, but not quite conceding either.

They munched quietly for a while on toast, Harry on the couch and Sirius in the chair normally occupied by Remus, and as they sat Harry felt the nagging sensation come back into his gut, the one that was urging him to ask Sirius about an event he wasn't sure he really wanted to know about. Harry continued to struggle with himself for a few silent minutes, unaware of Sirius' knowing and somewhat amused glances he was throwing at his godson over his breakfast. Finally Sirius placed his tea on the table in front of them and then sat back in his chair, sprawling his legs out in front of him.

"Whatever it is, just ask," Sirius advised him gently.

Harry's head snapped up, and he flushed guiltily. "Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly.

Sirius snorted at him in amusement. "No need to apologize. What is it?" he asked again.

Harry hesitated, picked at the crust of his toast and tore it into tiny pieces.

Sirius grinned at him suddenly and burst out, "Is this about Ginny?"

"What?" Harry exclaimed, half-startled and half-horrified. "No!"

"Are you sure?" Sirius questioned, taking out his wand, "because I could always—"

"Oh please, no," Harry said, voice strangled as he looked at Sirius' wand in abject fear. "No more people. Once was enough."

Sirius barked out a laugh, and put his wand away safely out of sight. "Alright fine, spoil my fun," he teased.

"Your fun, my torture," Harry muttered, blushing slightly.

Sirius chuckled again and conceded, "I know, I know. No more people making out on my mantelpiece."

"Thank you," Harry replied sarcastically.

"So what is it, then?" Sirius asked, voice less comical now.

Harry took a deep breath and braced himself for a variety of possible reactions from his godfather, and none of them seemed particularly good to Harry.

"I was just… I was wondering if you'd tell me about what happened to you," Harry said softly, "after Dumbledore did the Legilimency on you."

Sirius froze, his face suddenly and perfectly blank, his body utterly motionless. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Breathe, Sirius," he reminded.

Sirius' breath rushed out of him with a small _whoosh,_ and Harry grimaced in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he said, feeling poorly already for having brought it up.

"No, I--" Sirius choked out, but stopped abruptly and had to force himself to continue. "I was just surprised, is all."

Harry hesitated a moment, and the silence was thick. Sirius looked stunned, haunted, his face pale and blue eyes wide and unseeing. "You don't have to tell me, Sirius," Harry answered. "It's okay. I was just curious, I don't need to know."

"I'll tell you," Sirius said shortly. "I just—I've never." Sirius stopped again, and Harry looked at him and felt sick that something terrible enough had happened to Sirius to force him into inarticulacy. Fear rose up inside Harry's chest, tightened its grip there and squeezed until he was having trouble breathing himself.

"Sirius, stop," Harry said, wanting to shake his godfather until whatever was suffocating him _went away_, wanted Sirius to stop thinking about something so painful that it almost stopped him from functioning.

"It's not… it's not that bad," Sirius said, voice very far away. "I'm being silly."

Harry looked at him incredulously. "You're not silly!"

Sirius was silent for a long time and Harry didn't know what to do to fix him, to make him better and turn him back into the Sirius that Harry recognized.

"It wasn't… it wasn't just the Legilimency," Sirius began softly. "That's what makes it different from yours, I think. What I keep telling myself, when I worry that you'll be as bad off as I was." Sirius wasn't looking at him, was staring blankly straight in front of him, seeing images of a life he had had before Harry was born. Harry didn't speak, or move, and he tried to breathe more quietly in case he interrupted Sirius and stopped him from speaking. Sirius glanced at him then and seemed to come back to himself slightly, visibly forced himself to regain some of his composure.

"Do you remember last Christmas, when we looked at the Black Family Tree? On the tapestry?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "I remember," he said.

"She burned my name off sixth year, after I ran away," Sirius said, and Harry remembered also that Sirius _had_ told him that, had told him that he had run away that year and gone to stay with Harry's dad.

"My parents and I never… saw eye to eye, even when I was little," Sirius continued, voice low. "And then when I came to Hogwarts and got sorted into Gryffindor, it was the worst thing that had ever happened to our family. By the time I came home from fifth year, things had gotten… out of control." Sirius stopped here, stayed silent for a few moments as he breathed and tried to remember that this was long over, that he didn't have to go back to the House of Black ever again and he was finally, finally free.

"My parents weren't stereotypical, I suppose, in their ways of punishing me," Sirius said dryly, and Harry felt his stomach drop and the hairs on the back of his neck rise in dread. "My father was… taller than I am even, and broader. He got it into his head that if I _saw_ my blood—Black blood—that I would realize exactly what it was I was betraying." Sirius didn't falter as he said this, just described it calmly as it had happened, and Harry closed his eyes and had to turn his face away even as Sirius continued speaking. "My mother was the reason Dumbledore wanted me to learn Occlumency. She used to get into my head and try to manipulate me, would show me images of your dad and Remus and Peter, and myself, and convince me that what I was seeing was weak, and bad, and dirty. And the summer before sixth year I was fifteen, and brash, and so angry at them that I would say anything to provoke them and by the time I came back to school everything around me was falling apart."

Harry saw movement out of the corner of his eye and looked over his shoulder to find Remus standing just outside his bedroom, a look of weary acceptance on his face as he heard Sirius' last words, and Harry didn't know how long he had been standing there but knew from the look on his face and the way his body sagged that this was something Remus had seen for himself, firsthand, and that the memories still hurt him as much as they hurt Sirius.

"I came back to school and I was just… a ticking clock, I supposel. Your father and Remus and Peter were all I had—they were everything to me. As it got closer and closer to the winter hols, the thought of going home got worse and worse and I felt like I was being suffocated, and was convinced that if I went home the world would come to an end. I leaned on our group, on everything that made us a _real_ family—not by blood but by our loyalty to each other—and when I ran into Snape on a full moon and he tried to tell me that I was weak, and that my _friends_ were weak… I wanted to prove him wrong." Sirius said this last part simply, almost helplessly, and in the corner of the room Harry saw Remus drop his head and reach one hand out to support himself on the wall, anguish leaking from every pore but Harry couldn't tell if it was for himself or Sirius or both.

"Remus wasn't weak, I hadn't ever known a stronger person, and what better way of showing Snape that Remus was the _definition_ of strength than on a full moon?" Sirius asked, mind seeped into the memory completely, sounding desperate and defeated all at once, like he was struggling to keep himself above the surface of something awful but was losing the battle inch by inch, and being dragged under. "I told him to go to the Whomping Willow, and I gave Remus away." Sirius said, and Harry shuddered because he had never heard someone speak about themselves with so much hatred.

"And then I lost them," Sirius continued, voice small and vulnerable. "I nearly killed Snape, and Remus could have been expelled and Dumbledore could have been fired for having let Remus come at all and… I hated myself and was _so sorry_ but I lost them anyway. And I was alone suddenly, a disgrace to both my blood family and the one I had thought unbreakable." Sirius did pause here for a moment, and when he continued his voice was shaking slightly, forcing its way through a throat that was tight with emotion. "And that's when Dumbledore and I tried the new Legilimency."

Harry's jaw dropped open. He couldn't help it, he knew on some level that maybe it was rude but it was a reaction that he couldn't prevent. Harry could not wrap his mind around someone going through a Legilimency experience like he and Sirius had and _not_ having anyone there afterwards, couldn't wrap his mind around that idea that someone would have to deal with the nightmares, and the sickness, and the crippling fear that wouldn't go away no matter if it was day or night, all by themselves. It was impossible, Harry thought.

"What… what happened?" Harry asked, and his voice came out breathless and disbelieving. He looked at Sirius helplessly, needing to hear the resolution—that it turned out alright, that Sirius was still alive obviously because he was sitting right here but Harry still needed to hear it, needed to know that everything fixed itself. Sirius opened his mouth to answer but sound would not come out, and his face was paler than Harry had ever seen it and he looked haunted in a way that Harry hadn't seen since just after he had escaped from Azkaban.

"He stopped eating," Remus' voice cut in. Harry turned his head to Remus quickly but Sirius looked at his friend more slowly, and when his eyes finally locked with golden amber ones Remus almost didn't recognize them. Remus walked forward slowly and sat on the other end of the couch, and knew that Sirius was done—that he wouldn't be able to finish this story even if he _had_ to, and knew that the ending was his responsibility to tell, anyway.

"You thought we didn't know, Sirius," Remus said, voice thick and low, "but we did. We could tell the day it happened, because you were jumping every time something moved within your line of sight and your head hurt so badly you couldn't stand any sort of light without squinting." Remus looked at his knees and picked at a loose thread on the cuff of his shirt in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness.

"He stopped eating after that, and never slept, and got more and more subdued until he wasn't talking at all," Remus continued, and chose to address Harry because he couldn't bear to face his friend with this, couldn't face the role he had had in this event. "James was worried, he was ready to start talking to Sirius again in two days because he knew him best and he knew Sirius hadn't meant it, knew how it had happened, but I was too stubborn. I wouldn't forgive him, wouldn't relent even though I could see that he was in pain." Sirius was looking away from him but his face was tilted towards him slightly, and Remus knew he was listening intently and felt all the worse for it, knowing that Sirius should have heard this years ago and still needed it, after all this time.

"And then Sirius disappeared," Remus said, still speaking as though he was addressing Harry but knew he was actually speaking to Sirius. "He didn't show up to meals, or classes, or come to bed. We were all awake that night, listening for him to sneak back in, and I remember looking out the window and watching the snow fall and thinking to myself that in the morning, he'd be back and I would talk to him. But then he wasn't back in the morning, and James was ready to rip off my head and snapped at anyone who tried to talk to him. He went straight to Dumbledore at breakfast, told him Sirius was missing, but before Dumbledore could even summon the ghosts to look for him James slapped his hand to his forehead and took off."

Harry didn't know what to do except sit, awkwardly, horrified and nauseous over the things he was hearing, and he wished now, as he had known he would, that he had never asked Sirius to explain what had happened. At some point this had become a conversation that Harry wasn't supposed to hear, and he didn't know when exactly Sirius' answer to his question had turned into something private between Remus and Sirius, but somehow it had and Harry was distinctly uncomfortable. He was intruding, but he couldn't just get up and leave because his legs felt numb and Remus was still speaking like he was talking to Harry but somehow Harry knew that he wasn't, and Harry felt sick that Sirius had been so hurt, so utterly alone, and Harry wanted to leave and throw up and then go to sleep so he didn't have to think about it anymore.

When Remus spoke again, his voice was very distant, mind looking back on an event that neither Harry nor Sirius had witnessed. "The next time I saw James, he was in shock as he stood by your bed in the hospital wing while Poppy tried to warm you up, and your skin was blue and the robes on the floor were covered in snow and ice because you had spent nearly twenty four hours on top of the Astronomy Tower in a blizzard in December, and you were only half conscious and kept fighting her and telling her to let you die."

Remus broke off, unable to speak any longer as he watched in his mind as a hypothermic, sixteen-year-old Sirius asked Poppy to let him die, and a shudder ripped through his body and he felt suddenly and violently ill. He sucked in a deep breath of air, rested his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands because he didn't have the strength to hold it up any longer. "That's on me, Sirius," he said gently. "I left you alone when you needed a friend the most, when you needed someone else to pick up your pieces and put you back together after Dumbledore had ripped you apart. I'm sorry."

The silence that settled over the room after this statement was heavy and complete, each of the people in the room stunned and anguished to the point of exhaustion. Harry had to leave, didn't know what he could do _but_ leave, and so he stood quietly and squeezed Sirius' shoulder as he moved past him, felt the shoulder beneath his hand quake slightly, and then moved towards the door with a murmured, "I'll come back later," and then left.

Sirius was silent for another long moment after the portrait door shut softly, feeling drained and empty. He had only a few memories of the day Remus was remembering, but they were some of Sirius' worst; he had been utterly and completely alone. He had felt desperate, trapped inside a body that he hated, and awful memories had played themselves over and over again inside his head and he _couldn't stop them_, and he had run to the top of the Astronomy Tower and had sat there for a long while because he couldn't breathe and when the temperature dropped below freezing and snow started falling heavily from the night sky, he didn't get up because he had no place to go.

And then days had passed without him realizing it. There were no memories of being on the Tower for more than a few hours; no memories of James finding him or bringing him in a panic to the hospital wing. There was nothing after that, nothing until he woke up and _wasn't alone anymore_. James and Remus were there, even Peter, and Sirius had never felt more relieved in his life than he did at that one moment despite the fact that he had nearly frozen to death. And if his friends had shown up too late, he didn't care because they _had_ shown up, and Remus at least was still here. Remus still sat with him in the evenings, drinking tea and correcting papers, and he woke Sirius from nightmares that he couldn't break himself out of alone, and Remus was _here_, and Sirius knew that Remus was expecting him to be angry or upset but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything other than gratitude. So when he opened his mouth and murmured softly, "It's really okay, Rem," he somehow, despite everything, believed it. "You're still here. We're still here."

Remus shut his eyes against the possibility of losing Sirius for what seemed like the millionth time, and he smiled gently as he responded somewhat wryly, "Against all odds, yes, we are."

And when Remus reached out a hand and squeezed Sirius' knee, Sirius didn't hesitate in reaching out his own hand and wrapped his fingers around Remus' wrist, felt the pulse there beat steadily, and knew that he still relied on it as much as he had when he was sixteen.

"Don't leave," Sirius said quietly.

Remus made an odd, inadvertent noise in his throat and said simply, "I couldn't ever, even if I wanted to."

Sirius smiled at him crookedly, left side slightly higher than the right, and when Sirius said, "Me either," Remus couldn't help but smile warmly back at him.

***

TBC :)


	26. Chapter 25

A/N: Typically long time between chapters, I know. But the end is in sight! Only a few more chapters to go. I hope you like this next one! Love and thanks goes as always to my wonderful beta!

xxxx

"I have an idea," Sirius declared as he walked into his living quarters, not entirely sure if Remus was inside to hear his idea or not but hoping that he was.

"Really?" Remus' voice asked from inside his bedroom, and Sirius felt himself grin in happy anticipation. "Shall I run for cover, then?" Remus said as he ambled out into the common room, an amused look on his face.

"No, I don't think so," Sirius said. "But there is always the possibility of danger with me, so you'd best be on your guard."

Remus snorted. "Duly noted. What's your idea?" Remus made his way over to his chair and lowered himself down into it, flicking his wand absently at the fireplace as he did so and setting a roaring fire crackling there. Sirius sat down on the couch as well, legs jittering in front of him.

"Is Harry in?" Sirius asked.

"No," Remus said, "He's with Minerva, making up some of the work he missed. I think he'll be all caught up by the end of the winter hols."

"Brilliant," Sirius said, pleased that Harry was not only feeling better and catching up on schoolwork, but also that Harry was at this particular moment not here, which for once suited Sirius quite well because Harry couldn't know about The Idea yet. "I think," Sirius said boldly, and slightly louder than necessary, "that I am going to buy us a house for Christmas."

Silence reigned after this statement, heavy and absolute. Remus sat frozen, face blank and body entirely still, as though he had been caught in time. Remus' stomach had abruptly clenched itself into a knot at Sirius' statement; he was being silly, he knew, to feel a sudden sadness wash over him at this pronouncement, but he couldn't help it. There had been a time when Remus had thought he would never see Sirius or Harry ever again; that they were just two more memories to stew quietly over, again and again, as he found refuge in the cold comforts of his mind against the bleakness that had become his life after November, 1981. He had come to terms with the fact that a part of him would always be empty, that he wouldn't ever feel warm or happy or content again. But Remus couldn't help but feel that for the last few months, despite the ever-present hardships that existed with having a war on, he had felt… full. Remus was surprised, now, at how strong the crushing sense of despair was at the idea that he would once again have to live alone.

Sirius was looking at Remus expectantly, eyebrows raised and looking distinctly like a puppy waiting to be praised. When no such praise was forthcoming, he pouted visibly and waved a hand in front of Remus' still stone-like features, making sure his friend hadn't been accidentally and mischievously Stupefied.

"Hallo?" Sirius asked. "What do you think?"

Remus blinked once at him, and then seemed to realize that he was, in fact, expected to say something. _'Get it together, Lupin,' _he told himself sternly. It's not like he would never see them, he reasoned with himself. And this was something he knew would fulfill a desire both Sirius and Harry had both had since they had been reunited three years ago, and he couldn't bring himself to begrudge them that.

"You want to buy a house," Remus said, and winced slightly to himself at how vague he sounded, his voice sounding strangely distant even to his own ears.

"Yes," Sirius reiterated, more insistently this time. "Buy a house! For Harry and me and you."

"And me?" Remus asked, finally snapped abruptly out of shock and into the present. "You want to buy a house for us, as in you and Harry and _me_?"

Sirius cocked his head at Remus and a small, bemused smile made its way across his lips. "Of course you," Sirius answered, but then his face lost its happy expression and worry crept its way insidiously across his features. "I mean, only if you want to. You don't have to, I just thought-"

"No!" Remus interrupted hastily. "No, I do. I want to." Sirius stopped his babbling, and a large smile broke out across his face. "Sorry," he said. "I was just surprised, is all. I thought you'd want a house for just you and Harry."

"I want a house- my first real home- for my family. That includes you, Moony," Sirius said simply. "It wouldn't be the same without you."

Remus was silent again now but this time out of joy, out of disbelief, out of a gratitude so deep he didn't know if he could ever find the words to express it. He opened his mouth to say thank you, to say _something_, but his voice wouldn't form the words. Instead he felt his eyes sting dangerously, and he blinked them rapidly a few times as an embarrassed flush crawled up his neck and cheeks.

"Sirius," Remus finally managed. "I… I just-" He broke off, shrugging helplessly at his lack of words and sucking in a deep breath of air, trying to contain himself.

Sirius smiled softly at him, his eyes gentle in understanding, and it was a quiet look that was more peaceful and more content than any Remus had seen on him since before 1981, and Remus couldn't help but smile warmly back at him.

"Good idea, then?" Sirius asked, voice cheeky even as he reached out a hand and squeezed Remus' shoulder.

Remus laughed and nodded his head affectionately, completely and totally amazed that Sirius' ideas still had the ability to surprise him even now.

"Good idea, indeed," he murmured.

xxxx

"No, no, you're doing it wrong, Ronald!"

"Well enlighten me, then, Hermione. How's it supposed to be done?"

"Like _this_." Hermione made a smooth gesture with her arm, and then grabbed Ron's elbow and jerked it around a bit. "Not like that."

Harry chuckled at them, a sense of ease washing over him at the familiarity of their actions. He was still scratching away idly at his parchment, making finishing touches on one of the Transfiguration assignments Professor McGonagall had given him today, but truthfully he had lost his concentration ages ago. The fire in the common room was burning brightly, lulling him into a warm, sated state, and he felt the tight knots of pain in his shoulders start to loosen for the first time since he had undergone the Legilimency with Sirius. Hermione and Ron were bickering beside him, the break for the winter holidays was only two days away, and Harry felt completely content to sit idly here in the Gryffindor common room, listening to his friends' chatter and watching the firelight play off of Ginny's hair, turning it golden.

"Staring is rude, you know," Ginny said in an undertone beneath Ron and Hermione's squabbling, not looking up from the textbook spread out in front of her.

"Yes, well, I'm a terribly rude person," Harry said seriously. "It's to be expected."

Ginny snorted in amusement and turned to him, dropping her quill. "Oh yes, you're terribly rude."

"The worst," Harry agreed.

"Whatever shall I do with you?" she asked.

"Love me despite my dismal manners?" Harry said cheekily. "Or pawn me off to a circus. Either one."

Ginny laughed, shaking her head at him fondly. "You sound more like Sirius everyday," she commented.

Harry grinned at her, pleased. "Can't be helped, I suppose."

"Seemingly not," she said. The smile stayed on her face but the edges softened a bit and her eyes warmed, her expression moving easily from amused to tender. "I'm glad you're feeling better," she said softly.

Harry felt himself sober slightly, felt some of his heaviness return as fleeting images of nightmares played across his mind's eye and his body shuddered slightly in the remembrance of splitting pain in his head, of fire that seemed to rush tirelessly through his veins. He clenched his jaw, pushing the memories away determinedly. "Me too," he said softly.

"I was worried," Ginny said, her words simple but with a depth behind them that made Harry's heart twinge painfully.

"I know," Harry answered. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Ginny tilted her head a bit, studying him. "_You_ didn't scare me," she said. "It's the thought of losing you that scares me."

Harry felt his throat tighten, his chest filling at once with warmth at her words and with dread that they could come true; that even as he sat here, warm in the Gryffindor common room, there were a whole host of people trying to rip him away from the people he loved. He leaned forward in his seat, brought his hand up to her face and let his fingers trail down her cheek, then through her hair to rest at the back of her neck.

"You won't lose me," he said, voice quiet even as he felt a hard, steely resolve rise up within him. It raged inside his chest, angry and brutal, against anything and anyone that would take him away from her, from Ron and Hermione, from Sirius and Remus. "It won't happen," he promised her. She looked at him for a moment, eyes searching his with a barely concealed sense of desperation, and then nodded quickly in acceptance and closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his softly.

"OI!" a loud voice shouted suddenly. "What do you think you're doing, snogging my sister in the middle of the common room?"

They broke away from each other quickly, and Harry felt a blush creep up his neck as Ginny scowled at her brother darkly.

"Nothing, you prat," she answered plaintively. "And you're still doing it wrong."

"…Bugger," Ron muttered to himself.

Hermione rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in exasperation. "I give up," she said, but reach out a hand and corrected Ron's wand-hold even as she focused her attention on Harry.

"Are you staying in the Tower tonight, Harry?"

He nodded at her. "Yeah, I think so. I've got to check in with Madam Pomfrey after dinner, but I think it should be okay."

"Good, it's been bloody weird without you, mate," Ron put in, breaking away from Hermione's grip absently. "When I snore Neville throws a pillow at my head instead of putting a charm on my curtains like you do. It's annoying, really," he said thoughtfully.

"You could put the charm up yourself," Hermione said, looking at him from beneath raised eyebrows.

"Well, yeah," Ron said, "but that's hardly funny, is it?"

Harry let out a startled laugh, and was gratified when Ron grinned widely at him as the girls sighed in exasperation.

"See?" he said, gesturing at Harry happily. "Harry appreciates my humor."

Hermione ignored him, turning to Harry once again. "How are your nightmares?"

Harry felt his grin slip off his face, and he swallowed thickly. "They're fine," he answered.

Silence met this statement as all three of his friends merely looked at him, waiting. It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes then. "Oh alright," he said, somewhat sourly. "They're not fine, but they're better. I've been sleeping longer before I get them now, and usually I wake up myself. Sirius hasn't had to wake me up in almost a week."

Hermione looked at him intently, slight lines crinkling around her eyes as she looked at him sympathetically. "That's good, Harry," she said gently, and reached a hand out to pat his arm.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, then addressed Ron. "I'll put up a silencing charm tonight, just in case… so I don't wake anyone."

Ron had started shaking his head before Harry had even finished his sentence.

"Don't do that, mate," he said. "If you make noise I'll wake you up, and then we can be awake together. Simple as that."

Harry looked down at his hands, picked at groove in the table absently as gratitude washed through him and made his breath shake as he sucked air in through his mouth. "Alright," he said softly, and looked up at Ron, hoping that his expression somehow managed to convey to Ron the rest of what he was feeling. It must have, because Ron quirked a smile at him and nodded at him once.

"You're coming to the Burrow for Christmas, aren't you?" Ginny asked, aiming her question to both Harry and Hermione, who nodded simultaneously.

"Christmas afternoon, I think," Hermione answered.

"I haven't heard anything about it from Sirius, but I can't think why not," Harry said.

"Are you staying here for the break?" Ginny said.

Harry nodded at her grimly. "We're certainly not going back to his parents' house," he said, his voice hard. "Not ever again, if I can help it. It makes him miserable."

"Makes everyone miserable," Ron said.

"Well that should be fun, Harry," Hermione said. "You'll have the whole castle to yourselves, and you'll be at the Burrow for Christmas anyway. "

"Yeah," Harry replied, and fell silent for a moment as he tried to picture his first Christmas with Sirius in which they were free to do whatever they wanted, not stuck inside a dark house as they had been last year. Harry was jolted out of his reverie as a roar of laughter suddenly erupted from across the common room, and Harry turned his head just in time to see Colin Creevey snap a photo of Dean as he toppled forward onto his head, dragged down by the weight of his nose that had suddenly and rapidly expanded. Harry laughed as he watched his friend struggle, and then froze as an idea struck him.

"Hey, Colin," he called. "Would you help me with something?"

xxxx

Harry awoke the next morning to a faint, sharp tapping; he opened his eyes groggily, struggling to pull himself out of sleep's grasp, and reached an arm out to part his curtains slightly. He surveyed the room vaguely, but all looked normal; he plopped his arm back down onto the bed with a soft _thwump_ and shut his eyes again, already feeling himself falling back down into slumber.

_Tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap. _

Harry's eyes popped open and he yanked the curtain aside again, this time a bit farther, and put his glasses on his face with the other hand so he could see the room more clearly. Finally he located the source of the noise: a small brown owl, sitting on the windowsill closest to his bed and pecking at the window daintily but insistently. Harry immediately felt vaguely guilty as he saw it tremble slightly in the fierce December cold and he scrambled out of bed to opened the window. He shivered himself at the gust of wind that whipped its way through the dormitory and shut the window again quickly once the owl had hopped gratefully inside. Harry winced slightly in apology when Neville muttered in protest at the sudden cold, and took the small scroll from the owl when it held out a spindly leg towards him. He stroked its head in thanks, smiled slightly when it preened beneath his touch and nibbled at his fingers gently.

"You can stay and warm up if you want," Harry whispered, and the owl promptly flew to the top of the nearest four-poster and perched on top of it, putting its head beneath its wing for a nap. Harry crawled back into his own bed, pulled the blankets up to his shoulders and then opened the letter in his hand, recognizing Sirius' scrawl instantly.

_Harry,_

_ Hope your first night back went well! Come and see me before classes if you can. _

_ -Sirius_

Harry felt himself still at the contents of the letter. The first line had jolted Harry into awareness; as far as he could tell, he had slept through the night. Harry grinned, a sense of elation rising up within him as hope blossomed within his chest. He felt as though an invisible milestone had been crossed. He knew there would be more bad nights, but last night had not been one of them. He had slept through one night without waking terrified and screaming, and that was progress.

Harry peered at the alarm clock next to his bed; it was early still- early enough that Harry was vaguely surprised that Sirius was awake- and Harry figured if he got up now he could catch Sirius before breakfast. He steeled himself for the chill he knew would sweep over him as soon as he pulled the blankets back; once standing, he hurriedly stripped off his pajamas and pulled on his clothes, grabbing an extra sweater and tugging it on over his head as he walked quietly out of the dormitory.

The halls of the castle were empty, most of its inhabitants still ensconced in sleep, and Harry made his way slowly to Sirius' quarters, taking the time to look out the windows at the snowy grounds as he went. Harry's heart tingled with warmth and he felt his eyebrows go up just the slightest bit in wonder; Hogwarts still took his breath away, just as much as it had when he was eleven. When Harry arrived at the portrait guarding his godfather's quarters he nodded hello to the sleepy guardian and knocked slightly before poking his head in.

"Sirius?" he called softly, not wanting to wake Remus in case he was still asleep.

"Harry!" Sirius' voice called out from his bedroom. "Come in."

Harry walked into the sitting room and sat down on the couch, glad for the fire that was blazing merrily and keeping the chill out of the room. He felt its warmth sink into his skin, and sighed contentedly. Sirius walked into the room then, pulling a charcoal colored sweater over his head as he did so. When his head emerged again Harry's eyebrows went up in surprise; Sirius was wearing nicely fitted black trousers, and the warm grey of the sweater brought out his aristocratic features, all chiseled cheekbone and sharp jaw lines. His hair was pulled back neatly into a small ponytail, and for once his eyes seemed bright and alive, not ringed with dark circles or worry lines. Harry couldn't remember a time when Sirius had looked healthier, and Harry felt a bemused smile break out over his face.

"Where on earth are you going?" Harry asked.

Sirius settled down into the chair normally occupied by Remus and arched an elegant eyebrow at his godson.

"Who said I'm going anywhere?" he asked cheekily.

Harry laughed. "No one I suppose, but it's just…. You're dressed up! I haven't ever seen you like this."

Sirius snorted. "Believe it or not, I haven't always looked like an escaped convict. I'll have you know I used to be quite pretty."

"Don't get him started, Harry," Remus said as he entered the room, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "He'll go on about it for hours."

"Will not!" Sirius protested.

Remus snorted in amusement. "You absolutely will."

Sirius huffed and pointedly ignored him. "Now that you mention it, I am making a bit of an excursion. Remus too for a bit. I wanted to let you know before I disappeared."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, and he smiled in relief. "Thanks," he murmured, touched by Sirius' foresight. "I … I would have worried."

Sirius sobered slightly, but his expression was fond as he looked at his godson. "I know," he said gently, ruffling Harry's hair a bit. Harry ducked and brushed him away playfully, causing both of them to grin.

"Where are you off to, then?" Harry asked.

Sirius' face went innocently blank. "No where important. Just some errands."

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What kind of errand takes two fully grown wizards?"

"The kind involving helping Molly set up for Christmas at the Burrow," Remus interjected smoothly. "It's best to stay on her good side around the holidays, otherwise she keeps you from the pudding."

Harry chuckled. "It's best to stay on her good side all year round, I think."

"Right you are, Harry," Sirius said. "I'll be leaving after I teach my morning classes, and Remus will join me once he's done with the afternoon classes. We'll both be back by tomorrow night, though."

"Alright," Harry said, keeping his voice steady despite the sudden drop of his stomach. He was being childish, he knew, but for some reason the thought of Sirius being gone overnight made his chest tighten with worry. This would be the first time Sirius would be further than a walk away since Harry had found him again, and for some reason his departure- however innocent and brief- made Harry's shoulders tense with an anxiety he hadn't felt since September. Harry was startled out of his head when he felt a hand on his shoulder; Sirius had moved onto the couch beside him and Harry found himself looking into Sirius' knowing gaze, and then immediately felt himself flush in embarrassment at having been caught.

"I don't have to go, Harry," Sirius said, voice low. Harry noticed idly that Remus had taken a few steps forward and was leaning against the mantle, seemingly casual position belied by the sharp light of awareness in his gaze. Harry looked down at his toes.

"I'm being stupid," he whispered.

"You're not," Sirius said sharply.

"I am," Harry insisted. "I'm sorry. It's not that I don't trust you- I do- Only… this will be the first time you're gone and I just… I just…" Harry trailed off, unable to find words to express the knot in his stomach that seemed to twist itself tighter and tighter as Harry tried to imagine waiting for Sirius to come back.

The couch dipped suddenly, and Harry turned his head to see Remus sitting on his other side, looking at him seriously.

"I followed him around for days," Remus said softly. "This summer. After… after he came back. Any time he left a room even I would follow him. Not even to talk to him, just to see him. Make sure he was there. I didn't even realize it until he blew up at me when I accidentally followed him into the loo."

Harry let out a startled laugh. "You followed him into the loo?"

Remus nodded sheepishly. "By accident," he reiterated. "But the point is, you're not being stupid. You lost him. It's natural that the thought of him leaving makes you worried… because the last time he left he didn't come back. But this time he will."

Harry nodded and forced a small smile onto his face. "I doubt you'll bump into Bellatrix Lestrange while doing your Christmas shopping, anyhow."

Sirius' hand tightened reflexively around Harry's shoulder. "She never was the celebratory type," he agreed, voice gone momentarily dark. He seemed to recover himself though, and he sounded reassuring again as he said, "We'll be fine, Harry, I promise. I'll owl you tonight to let you know where we are and then we'll see you tomorrow."

Harry nodded, but couldn't stop himself from leaning into Sirius' side slightly. Sirius immediately wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders, hating the way his godson's face had fallen, the way his presence had dimmed.

"It's a fun trip, kiddo," Sirius said, trying to lighten the tone of his voice. "You'll like the results, you'll see."

Harry smiled a bit and nodded. "Okay," he said. He then pulled away from Sirius gently and stood up from the couch, grabbing his bookbag. "Time for breakfast," he said.

Sirius nodded and stood as well, and when Harry hesitated in walking towards the door Sirius crossed the space between them in one stride and pulled Harry to him, hugging him tightly.

"Try not to get into too much trouble," he teased as he released him.

Remus chuckled, and moved forward to squeeze Harry's shoulder reassuringly. "Trouble's in his blood, Padfoot."

"That is true," Sirius conceded with a grin.

Harry smiled and countered, "_You_ don't get into too much trouble."

Remus laughed outright. "It's in his blood, too!"

Harry smiled and shook his head fondly. "Also true. Be safe," he said as he walked out the door, "See you soon."

When he was out the door, Sirius turned to Remus. "He'll be alright, yeah?"

Remus nodded. "He'll be fine, Sirius. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione will look after him. And we're only an owl away."

Sirius nodded a bit absently, thoughts still obviously on his godson. After a few moments he seemed to shake himself out of his head and when he looked to Remus again his eyes seemed to sparkle from within, face alight with excitement. "Shall we proceed, then, Messr. Moony?"

Remus smiled. "We shall indeed, Messr. Padfoot. We shall indeed."

xxxx

TBC


End file.
